Brightest Light and Darkest Night
by sasansan1
Summary: Harry, having asked Cho to the Yule Ball before Cedric, finds himself embroiled in the coming conflict. Dark powers are gathering, and as the Wizarding World scrambles to prepare, ancient and powerful forces emerge to tip the scales.
1. The Icebreaker

Harry was deep in thought, pondering recent events. Someone in this school wants to kill me, he thought. Now, people wanting to kill him wasn't anything new to Harry, in fact, it was almost as old as he was. That someone could seek to do it here though, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry... Now that got to him. This was his home. Where he felt he truly belonged, and yet he was still in danger. He flashed back to that day where his name had been chosen. The Fourth Champion. He felt the schools jealous eyes on him, heard their scornful whispers, sensed their simmering resentment. Even his best friend had fallen to it for a while. And then, the First Task. The fear, the exhilaration, and the feelings of pride and joy as he overcame the obstacle. The obstacle here just happened to be a giant dragon, hell bent on protecting her eggs, but hey, could've been worse. He could be dead. His mind kept going to that single, irrefutable fact.

And coming up, the Yule Ball. Harry, as silly as this might seem, was most terrified by that. There would be no adrenaline, there would only be him, his... _date _and an empty dance floor. Not that he had a date, he knew who he wanted to ask, but they weren't desperately close. Acquaintances, cordial friends at best. Cho Chang. His stomach did a backflip at just the thought of her. A year above him, stunningly pretty and popular to boot. But even then, Harry had worked up the courage to ask her weeks ago. But she traveled in bloody _packs. _It was ridiculous, he half wondered whether all those girls had been charmed into being around her. But she was just Cho Chang. She smiled at him when they passed in the hallways, and caught his eye during meals (which he couldn't help but notice she did only to him) but Harry had lines for his bravery, and it was drawn at groups of 10 or more girls.

He stared over a buttress onto the frozen landscape. Snow caked the trees of the Great Forest, looking as though a blanket had been laid over it, and the only other colors that could be seen were the greens and browns of exposed needles and leaves, or grays from the smoking curling out of Hagrid's chimney.

Harry resolved to return later that night, if only to think, as he begin to return to the Great Hall.

* * *

Breakfast, as usual, was an ordeal. It was always worse in the mornings, reflected Harry. The hushed whispers and the furtive looks came out in the early hours, as though they were eager to get back to shunning him after his night of refuge. Thankfully, Harry had his best friend back, but he still let out a sigh at the circumstances.

Almost against his will, he glanced towards the Ravenclaw table. He locked eyes with a gorgeous girl of Chinese descent, who favored him with a small smile before he looked away in embarrassment, his cheeks burning.

Several Hufflepuffs, and even more Slytherins glared at Harry as he walked past. They all still believed him to be the attention seeking boy that the Daily Prophet had, for some reason, decided to portray him as.

He ate slowly, pondering his food before chewing it in slow bites. After a while of this, he risked sneaking another glance at the Ravenclaw Table. Yes, Cho was still there. He looked at her for a few seconds, mouth slightly open. It closed with a _click _when Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. She was deep into an intense argument with Ron, and hadn't been checking her motions.

"Oh sorry Harry! But if _some _people," she looked dangerously at the red-headed freckle-faced boy that was sitting across from Harry "were more responsible about where they left their things, then maybe _other _people wouldn't trip on them and nearly break their necks!"

"Break their necks! Break their necks!" Ron yelled back in a strangled sort of voice, "you fell onto the _bed _for Merlin's sake!"

"The fact remains Ron that if you keep _throwing _your stuff around- sorry Harry!- one day it might happen!"

Harry sighed heavily as Ron made an angry retort. The morning after he had arrived, she had rushed into Ron's room to greet Harry. Ron's trunk had been laying in the middle of the floor, and her foot hit it, making her sail spectacularly through the air to land on Ron's bed. Thankfully, Ron just gotten up, so it was indeed the bed she landed on instead of what would have been a very embarrassed Ron Weasley.

It looked like they were still arguing over this month old disagreement. How true to form.

Harry almost didn't notice when the still bickering pair rose, and had to hurry to catch up with them. They seemed to have reached an agreement however (Hermione was looking away from Ron and he was doing the same) and both greeted Harry cordially when he rejoined them.

"What's first this morning?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

"Defense!" said Ron eagerly. Harry smiled too, "What are we learning today I wonder?"

"Something mad most likely," replied Ron, excited.

"Hopefully it's _useful_" added Hermione, joining their conversation.

"It will be," said Harry, "you know what he always says," 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' they all said at the same time. Laughing, they turned a corner, running directly into Professor Moody.

"Constant vigilance is right!" he roared, and they all jumped. "Keep in mind you three, always keep an eye out, you wouldn't want a Death Eater surprising you as easily as I just did. Got a little surprise for you before class today. Come now! Let's go, my surprise may take awhile and I don't want to keep my class waiting." he finished gruffly.

He led them up several flights of stairs and thru several passages that Harry didn't recognize. He realized that they weren't headed to Moody's classroom, but as he began to point out the fact the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher stopped in a darkened alcove, abruptly opening a small door.

Mist flowed out, coalescing into a giant, six-foot-tall hairy spider. Ron screamed and scrambled backwards while Hermione stood frozen, but even as the spider began to shift into a heavily cloaked figure, Harry already knew what to do.

"Riddikulus!" he yelled, focusing hard. The half-formed dementor's cloak wrapped around it, and the creature bounced down the stairs like a beach ball. Harry let out a shout of laughter as it rebounded off the wall and it vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Very good Potter!" growled Moody, "Yes, you'll be a hard one to beat in _this _tournament. You two," he turned on Ron and Hermione, whose faces were white. "Did you see what he did?!" they nodded dumbly. "That's what it takes to survive out there! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared again, and the pair jumped.

He led them through the veritable maze of Hogwarts for a while longer, until, covered with dust, they emerged out of a suit of armor directly across from his classroom. "Another lesson for you three! You'll find your enemy in many places, often when you least expect it. There is _always _a weak-link. Someone who knows a way in that you don't." Glaring at them like it was their fault, he ripped open the door to his classroom.

"Seats, now! Talking, stops!" they class obeyed almost instantaneously. He walked slowly to his desk while Harry, Ron and Hermione took their seats.

Moody looked at them all, the scars on his face stood out in sharp relief inside of the lighted room.

"Today, we will be covering one of the most important aspects of the Dark Lord. Control. There are many ways to gain possession over people," he began "some are better than others, but _none _of them are one-hundred percent good. Why use the Imperius Curse, infallible as it is, when you can use love?"

Dean and Seamus snickered and Moody rounded on them. "Thomas! Finnegan! What would you do if your mother was taken?"

"Well... anything to get her back, I suppose." said Dean, as Seamus nodded in agreement.

"You see?" gestured Moody,"Love can drive those with ability to do great and terrible things. He-Who-Must-Not be named may not love, but hate is a weakness as well."

"B-but how sir?" asked Hermione, hand in the air "if you hate, if _he _hates, then he doesn't care about anyone. So why would that be a weakness?"

"Ah, you're thinking too straightforward, someone filled with anger makes reckless decisions. They stop at nothing to eliminate the objects of obsession, and are, in a fashion, controlled by it. A good example is sitting before me." and Harry found himself at the center of the classroom's attention, just like when they discussed the Unforgivables.

"Why did Voldemort," many people winced a the name "become evil in the first place?"

"Because he's a bloody git that's why," muttered Ron.

"His hate for muggleborns," Hermione shifted uncomfortably "caused him to descend into magics so dark, they haven't been seen in ages. Likewise, his attack on the Potter family was due to his anger at their refusal to join. But here his weakness was exploited, because who did he meet? And what happened to him?" Harry felt eyes shift to look at him again.

"So class, always guard against weaknesses. You'll have them, no matter how powerful you are, and the enemy will be trying to find them out, mark my words. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared again, and everyone jumped.

* * *

Harry turned the corner, deep in thought. He had, like he promised himself, come back to the wall. Turning another corner, he banged into a person coming around from the other side. The person was about to fall down, but as they started to tip, Harry caught them around the waist.

Harry found himself face to face - literally, holding a surprised asian girl. He cleared his throat, had the night's winter air just jumped 30 degrees? "Um," Harry cleared his throat "h-hi Cho." He tried to appear calm, even though his insides were trying to beat their way out of his body.

"Oh! Harry! Um, hello, nice night isn't it..." she trailed off embarassedly, her cheeks pink. Harry realized he was still holding her, and jumped back. His feet slipped on the icy stone and he pinwheeled his arms wildly trying to regain his balance, but despite his best efforts he fell to the floor with a muffled 'huff!' accompanied by a sharp _crack! _as some of the ice broke.

Cho giggled a little as she bent to help him up "Thanks Harry, that makes me feel a lot better." she grinned playfully. He snorted as the awkwardness dissolved, "Watch out Miss Chang, maybe next time I'll let you fall."

"Would you really?" she asked skeptically. "Well, no definitely not" confessed Harry, making her smile. They stood next to each other in silence for a little bit, looking around at the frost covered landscape. All of a sudden, Cho giggled. Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows, lightly questioning her sanity. She laughed again, "Oh don't you get it Harry?"

He stared at her, slightly bewildered "Get what?"

"You broke the ice! Get it?" she dissolved into laughter again, and this time Harry joined her.

"So," asked Harry after they were done, "how's the Tornadoes doing?" He felt strangely at ease, something that had never before happened in her presence. He had indeed broke the ice, and found he could comfortably talk to her. Harry had to stop himself from smiling due to the happiness he was experiencing at the moment.

"They're doing great!" she gushed, "did you see them play the Sacramento Switchbacks in the international match during the summer?"

"No," he replied, feeling very out of the loop. Thankfully that didn't dampen her enthusiasm, "Well it was fantastic! You should've seen this move the Tornadoes used! They're calling it the Chaser Crunch! So the Sacremento Chaser, I think his name was Allen Ward, he shot up through a gap they'd left in the middle of the pitch. But he was blocked by William Arrows," Harry nodded, familiar with Tutshill's famous Chaser.

"The other two Switchback Chasers, can't recall their names, they were on opposite sides of the pitch being covered by Rogues and Lexley. Arrows stole the Quaffel, and made like he was going to throw, it was great! Rogues and Lexley crossed paths above and below Ward, and the Switchback Chasers were too busy covering them to watch where they were going. Anyway, Sacramento's Chasers both end up slamming into Ward at exactly the same time! It was just, wow. And the Tornadoes blew them away, 360-70." she paused, out of breathe at having talked so fast.

Harry laughed slightly, then sighed, "I wish I could have been there. I don't do anything magical during my Summer Break." Cho patted his arm sympathetically, "I heard about your relatives, are they really that bad?"

"Worse even. It's like living with Slytherins." Cho winced.

"Well, only about two and a half more years right?" He nodded slowly, "Provided I live that long."

"You _will _live that long. Don't say things like that," said Cho, rather sharply.

Harry shook his head, like he was trying to wring out those thoughts, then smiled at her. "Well, there _is _that small matter of me being entered in a tournament famous for death."

"Oh is there?" said Cho off-handedly "didn't notice." Harry laughed quietly.

"Besides," Cho continued, a slight blush on her cheeks, "there is one good thing about the tournament."

"And that is?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"The ball." she stated matter-of-factly, although her cheeks were crimson.

"Ah about that..." said Harry hesitantly, his mouth very dry now.

"Yes?" questioned Cho eagerly.

"Well I was wondering... were you going with anybody?"

She sidled closer to him, "Not yet, but I was hoping..." she let the hint trail off.

Her sudden proximity gave Harry new found courage, "Then, would you be interested in going... with me?"

Cho beamed at him, "I would be _very _interested Mr. Potter."

He gave a relieved laugh, "Are you sure? I'm giving you a chance to escape," he mock warned her.

She laughed too, "Well how about I give _you _a chance to escape? I have two older brothers."

She stuck her tongue out as Harry's jaw dropped open. "T-two," he sputtered "Well, er, what do they do?" he asked, trying to recover by sounding calm.

"Oh nothing big," said Cho nonchalantly, "One's an Auror. The other's a beater for the Belfast Brutes, but really, what do you have to worry about? After all," she continued slyly as Harry had a minor panic attack "you _are _the Boy Who Lived."

He gulped audibly, "Sure. Piece of cake. A-and," he licked his lips nervously "your father?"

She winked, "_That _one, Mr. Potter, you'll have to find out on your own. Same goes for my mum."

Harry took a deep breathe, but then smiled at Cho. It was a dangerous sort of smile, the kind of dangerous that was normally associated with Fred and George Weasley.

"Perhaps one day... you'll meet my Godfather." She laughed nervously, "Any hints as to who he is?"

"No, but... If you do meet him. Good luck." he smiled wickedly.

Oh dear, thought Cho to herself. Oh SHIT! thought Harry to himself.

"Anyway... I have to go," she said apologetically. "Oh, alright then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, and Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks, for asking me I mean," she smiled and kissed him on the cheek before walking away, leaving Harry to hold his hand to his face in disbelief, processing what had happened.


	2. Lingering Looks

Cho leaned closer to Harry's face "Harry, I just wanted to tell you that... I, my feelings for you cannot be expressed by words."

"Cho, I love you." Violins played in the background, Cho sat across Harry in a dimly lit room. There was a white tablecloth, on top of which was a lit candle and a vase of deep red roses.

Her dress was form fitting and spangled, Harry felt suave and powerful, dressed in a smart black tuxedo.

She leaned even closer, her eyes closed, lips parted. Harry felt himself drawn forward as well. She was closer, moving towards him, his eyes began to close as well, their lips almost brushed, and then-

"HARRY! WAKE UP! IT'S CHRISTMAS!" yelled Ron. Harry awoke slowly, but when he remembered his dream, grogginess quickly changed to anger. "Ron, you GIT!"

"Wuzzamatter," said Neville, sitting up blearily. "What's the matter?!" said Ron in a panicked voice as he backed away quickly "What's the matter is that my best friend is about to kill me!" He yelped as Harry hit him with a pillow.

"Come on Harry," pleaded Ron "it's Christmas!" He was still backing up quickly, and ducked behind Dean's bed as a textbook whizzed past his ear. Harry took a deep breath, and didn't release it until he was sure he could do so without screaming.

Ron's head peeked up over the bed, hopeful now that the violent noises had stopped, "It safe?"

"Yeah, sorry mate. It's not like you didn't just ruin the best dream of my life." Ron snorted, "You went mental on me because of a _dream_?"

"Ron I was about to kiss-!" Harry cut himself off abruptly, with a nervous look, his cheeks glowing pink.

"Hold on," said the red head, looking as though he'd been struck by lightning, "_who _were you going to kiss? You never told me you fancied anyone!"

Harry groaned, "Yes, because I knew you'd react like this."

"No ones reacting like anything," protested Ron defensively. Harry just raised his eyebrows, "But Harry, I'm your best mate!"

He sighed softly, Ron was right. If he couldn't trust him, who _could _he trust? "Promise not to tell anyone?" Harry relented.

"Not even Hermione?"

"_Especially _not Hermione."

And now Ron sighed too, "Fine... So who is it?"

Harry leaned close to whisper "It's... Cho. Cho Chang."

"CHANG!" yelled Ron in shock and Harry wanted to die on the spot as his roommates smirked at him. Dean opened his mouth to comment but fortunately, a loud _crack! _filled the room, and Dobby the House Elf appeared in the middle of the dorm.

Harry thanked Merlin at Dobby's timing.

"Hello Harry Potter!" said Dobby brightly, as everyone but Ron stared at him, flabbergasted.

"Hey Dobby" replied Harry "oh everyone," he continued casually "this is Dobby. He's a House Elf at Hogwarts." Dobby bowed to each one of the boys in turn "Dobby is pleased to meet other friends of Harry Potter."

"But Dobby came to give Harry Potter his Christmas present!" he said eagerly. "Ah, Dobby, I have yours right here, just um, let me look for it." In all honesty, Harry hadn't even thought of him. He supposed though, that he could have given Dobby anything and he would have been happy. Diving into his trunk, Harry fished until he found several pairs of his most horrible socks (figuring, and rightly so, that the more horrible the socks, the more abnormal, and the more abnormal, the more Dobby would like them). The mustard colored pair from the Dursleys, and a few other bizarrely patterned and colored ones went into the House Elf's small hands.

"H-harry Potter," said Dobby haltingly, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "You honor me sir, Dobby will never forget this! Your great spirit and generosity grows every year. I is honored in knowing you sir."

"Erm thanks..." he murmured embarrassedly, as Dean, Ron and Seamus snickered away. Neville still looked to be in shock at the House Elf's sudden appearance.

"Dobby knows it is not much sir, but he would like to give these to Harry Potter." He deposited a pair of socks onto the bed. The one on the left was plain black, which Harry thought quite alright until it began to wriggle away, whereas the one on the right was eye-shockingly green, letting out the smell of pine trees. "Dobby has invented them sir. The black sock is his favorite, it's like his very best friend." Even as he spoke, the sock crawled up to Harry's hand and began to nuzzle against it in a manner that was supposed to be cuddly, but came off as deeply disturbing.

"Thanks Dobby. I'm thrilled." said Harry, trying not to sound too sarcastic. But Dobby didn't notice, and his great eyes brimmed with tears again before he disappeared.

Harry continued opening his presents, getting a bit of string from the Dursleys (Harry didn't know why they even bothered), a comb enchanted to make his hair lay flat from Hermione ("Girls" snorted Ron as Harry flicked it into a corner), a miniature firebolt from Ron and a bottle of potion from Sirius (the letter from him said that it made whatever non-living object that you dipped in it invisible, and that it was 'bloody fantastic for pranks').

"So," said Dean, after they had finished unwrapping their gifts, "Cho Chang huh?" Harry turned beet red as the rest of the guys laughed loudly at this statement.

_Merry Christmas, _he thought to himself sarcastically.

* * *

"Merry Christmas!" said Hermione brightly as they walked down to the common room. "I loved my gifts! And Ron, yours, wow..." She trailed off, clearly amazed as he turned slightly pink at the compliment.

Harry had gotten her a notebook that never ran out of paper. The moment you closed the book after tearing out a page, a fresh sheet would take the spot. He had picked it up in Diagon Alley earlier in the year, but still had no idea how it worked. Ron, in a rare moment of thoughtfulness, had gotten Hermione a portable book case. There was a reversible engorgement charm on it. The smallest it could be was about the size of a matchbox, but if you chose to, it could be enlarged to a regular sized book shelf. It was, Harry had to admit to Ron, the perfect gift.

As they walked to the Great Hall for breakfast, they passed many fliers advertising the Yule Ball, as well as a few reminders on the date of next Triwizard Event.

"Any of you got dates to it?" questioned Hermione as they walked by a particularly large and flamboyant poster.

"Not yet," said Ron airily "I'm waiting for them to come to me. How about you Harry?" he asked him, a sly grin on his face. Harry averted his face, internally cursing Ron and resolving to take back his gift as soon as they got back to the Tower.

"Harry?" said Hermione concernedly, when he remained silent "Got a date yet?"

The smirk on Ron's face however, had slowly morphed to an expression of horrified understanding. "You _didn't_," he whispered, appalled. "Didn't what?" said an exasperated Hermione, irritated that she was clearly out of the loop. However, Harry's continued silence seemed to confirm Ron's question. "You _did! _You asked her! What'd she say?"

"Asked who?" Hermione snapped, the lack of knowledge was proving to be a great strain on her. Unable to help the goofy grin that spread across his face, Harry merely nodded at Ron. Mouth dropping, it took him a full three seconds to find his voice "_Yes? _She said _yes_?" He nodded again, still smiling widely.

"Bloody hell," whispered Ron. Hermione looked close to screaming, "_What. _Are you lot babbling on about?" she nearly screeched. Correctly assessing that if he didn't tell her soon, she would explode, Ron quickly explained in a series of hissed words, eyes still wide open.

"Eek!" squealed Hermione, clapping both hands over her mouth. "Oh _Harry_, that's _wonderful!_"

"Thanks 'Mione," he replied, feeling as though his insides were illuminated by the sun.

They entered the Great Hall then, and the babble of chatter washed over the three of them. Immediately, Harry's eyes scanned the Ravenclaw table, seeking out a certain someone.

He found Cho already staring at him. They made eye contact, and her warm brown eyes froze him momentarily in place while his heart thumped unevenly in his chest.

_Oh my_, thought Cho simultaneously, as she resisted the urge to fan her face against the sudden heat that suffused her.

Ron and Hermione watched the whole exchange in wide-eyed silence, and it took a few seconds for their motor abilities to reassert themselves. At that time, they hurriedly followed Harry.

"Nice one mate," said Ron in amazed tones, whereas Hermione looked so happy she could burst.

"_When_?" she whispered eagerly, as soon as she sat down. Harry groaned internally, she'd spend hours getting to know every second of it, then countless more breaking it down for him in carefully analyzed detail.

"Last night," he whispered back.

"When you went on that walk?" questioned Ron, nearly as eager for details as Hermione now that he'd gotten over his shock.

"Yeah" Harry nodded. Suddenly, right when she was about to ask him another question, she giggled, "What's so funny?" Harry asked defensively.

_I mean it's not like _she _has a date to the Ball! _he thought.

But then Hermione said something that ignited something akin miniature firestorm in his stomach "She's looking at you right now."

A stupid grin split his face as he turned quickly to face the Ravenclaw table.

* * *

Cho was staring intently at the back of Harry's head, wishing it were close enough for her to run her fingers through when all of a sudden, he turned around, a goofy grin plastered on his handsome face.

She gulped guiltily. Oops. Caught.

Cho saw him laugh a little at the expression on her face, and she dropped her eyes quickly, cheeks burning. Really, where was the justice? She'd looked at him for _months _and now, when they actually had a date together (her heart soared) her had to catch her.

She sighed unconsciously, her face falling. Shame and embarrassment trickled into her stomach, and she found it hard not to look at the ground. Fighting it every step of the way, she raised her eyes little by little to look at him again.

Strangely, his forehead was furrowed, eyebrows creased in concern. Concern... for _her_? And suddenly it didn't seem to matter that he knew she stared at him, suddenly all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and bury her head into his chest.

He smiled, relieved, when her expression brightened. 'I'm sorry,' he mouthed to her. She waved her hand non-commitedly in response 'Merry Christmas' she mouthed back.

They sat their for a while, staring at each other and having a silent conversation until Cho's friend's urgent whisper interrupted her. She snuck one last glance to see Hermione doing the same thing to Harry.

"_Cho!_" hissed her best Samantha urgently "_people are _watching!"

Startled, Cho looked up and down the Ravenclaw Table, and sure enough many were staring at her or Harry. With a jealous twist to her thoughts, she noticed that all the girls appeared to be looking at Harry. Wistfully. She ground her teeth because no matter how bad Harry's reputation was at the moment, a simple fact remained; he was gorgeous. However, what she missed that Harry saw was the guys, who were looking at her with the same expression. Some stares though, were a little more intense than others. Glancing around the Great Hall, she was horrified to see _everyone_'s gaze on the two of them. Michael Corner was looking at Harry as his left eye twitched occasionally, and Cedric Diggory on the Hufflepuff Table, the other Hogwarts Champion, was looking toward the bespectacled black haired boy as though he'd like nothing better than to beat him to a pulp.

The Great Hall was nearly silent as people exchanged bewildered glances, jealous faces, and whispered gossip. At the Head Table, Dumbledore was looking around with a bemused expression. McGonagall and Flitwick shared a glance, eyebrows raised, whereas Snape gazed around unconcernedly, his lip twitching unpleasantly when his gaze came to rest on Harry.

Gradually however, people began to return to their own conversations, although some still sneaked covert glances at the two Seekers whose cheeks were so red you could've fried bacon on them.

Cho sighed to herself at the commotion they'd caused, but still didn't regret it in the slightest.

* * *

The rest of her day was certainly eventful though, albeit in an oh-Merlin-let-it-end-already sort of way. She was asked to the Ball by no less than 11 boys, many of whom she had never even spoken to before.

Her only comfort was Harry, and she grinned to herself, remembering an earlier event.

She had quickly turned a corner, hiding from another admirer when she saw Harry talking with a very pretty 7th year. He appeared extremely uncomfortable, and was obviously being asked to the ball. She narrowed her eyes slightly, and felt her fingers twitching towards her wand as intense feelings of jealousy bloomed in her stomach.

All of a sudden, the 7th year spun away from Harry and walked down the hallway towards Cho, her eyes sparkling with tears. _Good for you _Cho though savagely. Harry looked at her, and his face lit up from its formerly guilty expression.

"Cho!" he jogged towards her, and she fought to keep her face normal as she swooned.

"Hi," she said, breathless. How absurd, she'd been motionless for the past few minutes.

"Hey," he smiled, and Cho felt an answering expression form on her face.

"What class do you have?"

"Potions," he said distastefully "least favorite class." Cho nodded, everyone in the school knew about the, for lack of a better word, _dislike_ that Harry and the Potions Master shared for each other.

"Hm... I have a break and..." she took a deep breathe. "And I was wondering..." _Come on Cho, you can do this, _she told herself, "Would chou mind if I w-walked chou to your clash?" she mumbled hurriedly. Cho could've cursed herself, she did _not _just do that.

But Harry just nodded, a wide smile on his handsome face. _It was a wonder he understood at all_ she thought as they walked away.

"Hey, Chang." came a cocky voice, as they passed a group of 6th years. "Yes?" she looked up, distracted. Harry had just been telling her several stories about his cousin.

"Come over here," a dark faced boy beckoned. Confused, she obeyed him, giving Harry a quick pat on the arm and a promise that she'd return.

"So," said the boy, with a bored look "fancy going to the ball with me?"

"Sorry, I'm going with someone else," she replied shortly, not liking this guy one bit. Cho turned to leave, but a hand grabbed her roughly. "Oh come on," the dark boy scoffed "you can't be serious."

"I think she is," came an icy and furious voice. Harry stood directly behind Cho, glaring at him, wand raised.

"Well Potter," he released Cho, who immediately stepped to Harry's side and took out her wand as well "It looks like we have a problem."

"Yes. You should go now," replied Harry in tones of loathing.

"Fine. But your _girlfriend _will come crawling to me eventually." he turned around and shrugged, walking away nonchalantly.

Harry's wand was trained on his back the entire time.

"Calm down Harry," said Cho soothingly, one arm moving his wand away and the other wrapped around his shoulder.

He took a deep breathe, then looked at her and smiled. Harry put his wand back and wrapped his arms around Cho, pulling her close.

"Are you all right?" he whispered in her ear "I'm fine now," she whispered back.

"Good," he closed his eyes for a while, content just to hold her.

"Harry?" said Cho suddenly, "Yes? he replied, not opening his eyes."

"What time is your class?"

"Bloody hell! We have to go!" he eyes shot open and he grabbed by the hand, pulling her along while she laughed.

"See you at the ball tomorrow," he told her quietly, outside of the potions room with a hand on her cheek (her FACE. Pervs).

"Can't wait," she smiled back, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek.

Grinning widely, he detached himself from her and ducked into the classroom, leaving Cho alone. She leaned against a wall, heart beating a mile a minute. The black haired beauty sighed happily, hardly believing her luck.

"Merry Christmas," she said quitely, touching her face where Harry's hand had been for a few sweet seconds.

And overall, it was.

**Author's Note: Hey look! I'm doing an author's note! I re-edited the ending of this chapter, and am now completely satisfied with it. If any of you aren't, well SCREW YOU. No! I'm kidding. but if you're not, just drop me a review and tell me what to fix. If you are satisfied, review anyway. They make my personal writer's world go round. No joke.**


	3. The Yule Ball

Tonight may just become the greatest night of Harry's life. It it wasn't for the fact that he was so nervous, his stomach felt like a prize fighter's speed bag.

Looking into the mirror for the umpteenth time, he smoothed non-existent wrinkles in the bottle green dress robes, and tried in vain to do the same to his hair. Why, oh _why _did he throw out that comb Hermione had gotten for him? Oh, right. Because it was a comb.

The sounds of boys rushing to get ready were all around him. Ron was staring disgustingly at the lace on his outfit, whereas Neville's head was trying to come out through his sleeve.

Making a last ditch effort, Ron had asked the best looking girls he could find if they had a date yet. In the end, a rather displeased Padma Patil finally agreed to him, although, judging from the kinds looks she kept throwing Harry, it wasn't for Ron's sake. When a snickering Dean pointed this out, Ron merely shrugged saying "At least her nose is dead center."

After untangling Neville from the clutches of his robe and helping Ron shear the lace off of his cuffs, Harry grabbed the present he had gotten for Cho. It wasn't much just a simple white lily that Harry had transfigured himself.

The boys stood in silence, perfectly ready for the night, on the outside at least. Long seconds passed before they realized that none of them were moving. Laughing nervously, Neville stammered "W-well, I'll just g-go then." He was taking with a very reluctant Ginny Weasley but she'd had no choice. Being a 3rd year, the only way she could go was as someone's date and Neville had been her only option.

But Harry stepped out and walked down the stairs. What did he have to be nervous for? He should be fine, for now at least. His date would not be meeting him in the common room. In fact, he seriously doubted she would know where it was, being in Ravenclaw. They'd be pairing up outside of the Great Hall.

"OY!" George yelled up to the dorms when Harry arrived alone at the foot of the stairs "You lot better find your bollocks soon! It's-_mmph mmph mmph_!"

"Nice one," said Harry approvingly as Fred roared with merriment; Angelina had her hand clapped over her date's mouth, preventing him for further scarring any other First Years.

While the couple tussled, the rest of them trickled down, Ron at the front, shame-faced in his shabby robes, then Dean who was followed closely by Seamus and Neville. Dean's robes were a deep burgundy, Seamus' a blue that matched his piercing eyes, whereas Neville's were plain black, though of a high quality. Neville tripped on the last step, which sent him barreling into Fred.

Letting out a shout, George disentangled himself from Angelina and helped his brother subdue Neville. After he was tied up with blankets and tossed to the corner of the room, the twins turned on each other.

After a few minutes of furious wrestling, they'd reached a stalemate. They had each other in matching head locks, and could hardly breathe for laughing.

Suddenly noticing the twin's attire, Harry let out a great snort of laughter. Fred was resplendent in gleaming purple robes, holding a top hat in one hand and a shiny black cane in another. George, going for a more traditional look perhaps, wore something along the lines of what Harry imagined Ron's old-fashioned robes had looked like new. Ruffles stuck out from his chest a good six inches, with similar ones completely obscuring his hands. Instead of bearing robes of a somber color like most of them (Fred excluded), George's robes were a startling orange with electric blue highlights, similar to Moody's eye. He finished his fantastic look with a Robin Hood-esque cap that had a feather which matched the highlights on his robes.

Capping off the entire ensemble, silver W's were monogrammed onto their backs.

Angelina and Katie, who were dressed more conventionally in dresses, looked somewhere between wanting to murder the twins on the spot and lapsing into hysterical laughter.

Katie leaned forward to whisper in the other Chaser's ear, and Harry caught the words 'payback' and 'broom.' He smiled secretively, whatever the twins were going to get, it would come out of nowhere, perhaps even _fall out of the sky_, so to speak.

Sweating slightly, the two Weasley's used cleaning charms to sort themselves (and Neville, who they apologized to with a 'We were scared for our families mate') out.

"Mate," Ron nudged him several minutes later, "It's time to go. You've got to be there early, remember?"

Suddenly the butterflies that had disappeared during the twins' antics were back, and it felt like they had brought a few eagles (and maybe even a couple of dragons) with them.

Harry and his best friend walked quickly, the menagerie in his intestines seeming to become more restless with every step.

He found himself checking his collar every half second and constantly running his hand through his hair. The posters for the Ball seemed abnormally bright and gaudy, jumping out at him.

Every now and then they would pass others, some looking just as nervous as Harry, whereas others looked downright bored. The bored ones, Harry couldn't help but notice, were the ones without dates.

Sounds of nervous talking and giggling girls grew steadily louder, until they found themselves at the entrance to the Great Hall.

It was still relatively empty, the Ball didn't start for another good half an hour, but people had arrived early to gossip or compare dresses. Ron, spotting Padma, excused himself with a mutter.

Harry barely noticed, as his eyes searched, coming to rest on the one that truly mattered.

Cho Chang, his date, stood not 10 steps from him in a dress that looked like a silvery waterfall on her body. It was extremely pretty, but the girl in it outshone the whole thing by a long shot. Her almond eyes glowed with happiness as she gracefully walked towards him.

He offered her the flower as she stopped in front of him, and she immediately brought it up to her nose to smell.

"You look handsome," she said nervously.

"And you look beautiful," he responded, unsure of where his courage came from.

She looked directly into his eyes for the first time that night, and smiled as all the awkwardness dissolved into the crisp air.

"Ready to dance?" she asked him teasingly, while she tucked the flower into a breast pocket on Harry's robes.

He winked, surprising her "I've been practicing."

She giggled, "Not with another girl I hope."

"No, it was actually Neville. He's a great snogger to," replied Harry mock-defensively.

Cho laughed loudly at this, causing several people to turn their heads to her. More than a few guys sighed wistfully.

While they talked, the rest of the school drifted in. Victor Krum was on the arm of a pretty girl wearing a periwinkle dress. Fleur came in behind him with garments of pale blue silk, her hand on the elbow of Roger Davies.

"Poor Roger," whispered Cho. Harry looked at her skeptically, "He's so thick, he can hardly string a sentence together to begin with. Imagine how he'll be with Fleur..." she tutted disapprovingly while Harry laughed silently next to her.

"What happened to all those Ravenclaw brains?" questioned Harry.

"One to many bludgers to the head." she responded knowledgeably. He strained to keep himself from laughing.

The rest of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students filtered in after their champions. Durmstrangs were dressed in dark colored robes with plenty of browns, blacks and reds. Several were trimmed with the furs of different animals. On the opposite end of the spectrum, the French students were dressed in thin robes of high quality materials; namely silks. The colors were all very surreal, with light forest greens, sea blues and soft lavenders.

Cedric too came in auburn robes, with a rather ditzy looking brunette in pale pink. "Marrietta?" said Cho in shocked recognition. The girl grinned at Cho, but Cedric shot Harry a jealous glance before whisking his date into the Great Hall.

"Ah, sorry about that" said Cho apologetically, catching the look "he's been after me for a while now but... I like someone else." She smiled sweetly at Harry, and he couldn't help but smile in return.

Still talking, they entered the Great Hall to find everyone but the Champions and their dates on the side. Harry gulped, his throat suddenly very dry. Practicing alone in you room was one thing, but dancing with a girl who made you tongue tied just with her eyes in front of hundreds of people was another entirely.

A simple wooden stage was set up directly in front of the head tables, raised a few feet off the floor and the House Tables appeared to have been pushed back to make room for dancing. After a cursory glance however, he noticed that the House Tables were gone altogether, to make room for many small, round, white tables.

Outside of the entrance to the castle, an enchanted garden lay. Twisted pathways of bushes, with scatterings of benches in between, the whole thing lit with the gentle light of fluttering fairies. Flowers of all kinds bloomed, lining the pathways of white stone. At the center of it, there was a magnificient fountain where several swans coasted around in the clear water.

Just then, the band entered, and many people cheered or applauded. The Weird Sisters were... well, weird. Their robes were artfully ripped, if ripping can be artful, and they seemed to possess an awful lot of hair.

Harry found himself wondering if the only reason they could stand to have torn robes during winter was due to having such absurd amounts of bodily fur, or if all of it just simply couldn't fit. He whispered his theories to Cho, who giggled and hit him playfully on the arm.

All of a sudden, the lights dimmed. Harry, blushing slightly, took one of Cho's hands in his own, while the other wrapped around her waist. Cho looked into his emerald eyes, and, as the music started to play and they began to waltz, she forgot about everyone else. It was just her and Harry in the room, dancing together, and he pulled her closer while she laid her head on his shoulder. After all that practice, Harry found the whole thing surprisingly easy. He could never get used to how she felt in his arms however, and was starting to think that it would be quite alright with him if this dance continued forever.

They spun effortlessly, not noticing that other couples eventually joined the four champions on the dance floor.

All too soon, the song had ended, and Harry led Cho off, their arms still wrapped comfortingly around each other as they sat down next to a brooding Ron.

"What's up mate?" said Harry, while he and Cho snuggled into a more comfortable position.

"Hermione," grunted Ron ill-temperedly.

"I didn't see her yet" replied Harry reflectively. Where was she?

"Sure you have. She's with Krum." the hostility in Ron's voice spiked when he said the name.

Shocked, Harry and Cho turned to look at the pretty girl dancing with the Quidditch star, and sure enough it was Hermione. He hadn't recognized her with flat, slightly wavy hair instead of the normally bushy do. She was laughing and smiling, her hand never leaving the arm of Durmstrang's champion.

"She looks good" said Cho conversationally, simultaneously sneaking a look at Harry's reaction.

He turned to Cho and smiled, not fooled for a second "But you look better." She pulled him closer, very pleased with his response.

"Hey," Harry told Ron, remembering something "Where'd Padma go? I saw her with you a little while ago."

He pointed in a vague direction, never taking his eyes off of Victor and Hermione. Following Ron's finger, Harry found Parvati's sister dancing with a few guys from Beauxbatons.

Harry and Cho were deep in conversation, when Ron said, with a very ugly look on his face "Why're _you_ over here?"

They looked over, and saw Hermione, who paused for a second at his aggression. "Cause you're my friends," she said, surprised.

"Well you've got a funny way of showing it," replied Ron, while Harry and Cho watched silently.

"And what is _that _supposed to mean?" asked Hermione crossly, beginning to get worked up.

"It doesn't mean anything-" began Harry, but Ron cut him off with a sharp hand gesture.

"Haven't seen you the whole night! You been off consorting with Durmstrang the whole time."

"_Consorting? _Consorting! He happens to be my _date _Ronald."

"Well then maybe you should get back to him! Precious Victor," he spat.

"Fine then! I will," and she stormed off, leaving Ron in an even darker mood than before.

"Er," said Harry, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "We'll just..." he looked pleadingly at Cho. "Go for a walk," she finished for him.

Ron gave a brief nod as he continued to glare in Hermione's direction, while Harry and Cho walked towards the gardens.

They sat down together on an ornate stone bench, hidden from view by clumps of bushes. "Having fun?" asked Harry.

"Loads," she said back, smiling at him brightly. Then, "Look, there's a fairy!"

Harry chucked at her excitement, but stopped when he saw the look she was giving him. "Were you laughing at me Harry Potter?" she said in a dangerous voice.

"N-no," he stammered in panic at the look on her face. She continued to look at him for severely half a second more before bursting out into laughter. "Got you," she smiled mischievously and she laid her hand on top of his. He rotated his palm upwards, and interlocked fingers with her.

They sat there for a while, simply enjoying each other's company.

"You know Harry" said Cho simply "I really like you," she leaned her head on his shoulder. "I like you too Cho," he responded with a smile, giving her hand a little squeeze.

Her answering look gave him confidence, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I was wondering," he continued "if you'd like to... Be my girlfriend?"

He turned away, anxious for her response. When he looked back, she was grinning like mad. "I'd love that," she whispered softly.

"Really?" he asked, throat dry "Well that's... Brilliant. Alright then."

She was still smiling at him, but she started leaning forward, her grin fading.

Like a magnet, Harry's body was drawn towards her as well, their faces getting nearer and nearer. Their eyes began to close, and then-

Their lips touched. Words couldn't describe the feelings coursing through Cho as his soft lips molded to hers. Harry was likewise stunned, feeling as though he could float.

They pulled away, smiling nervously, then drew together again. More passion was in this kiss, Harry put his hand on the small of her back to draw her closer, and she hugged him around the waist. They continued to kiss, while he brought his other hand to the back of her head, running it through her long black hair. _She smelled good_, thought the small part of his brain that was still able to function normally. It was something floral, bringing to mind fields during spring.

However as the kiss deepened, all thoughts left him.

Her lips parted and her tongue sought his own, Harry opened his mouth granting her entry and their tongues. Neither of them were sure how much they passed, sitting on the bench, but frankly, neither of them cared. After several eternities, the split apart, breathing heavily.

"Well," she finally said when she was able to breathe normally, "that was... some first kiss. Good job Harry." He laughed appreciatively, and wrapped both his arms around her.

She leaned against him, feeling hard muscles behind her. "Mmm, you're warm," she told him as she snuggled in.

"So are you," he kissed the top of her head. Goosebumps erupted on her skin, having nothing to do with the chilly weather. Harry burrowed his face in her hair, breathing deeply. It was a wonderful smell, soft and fragrant, and it took every ounce of his will power to stop himself from taking huge gasps of air to wolf down every bit of it.

They stayed that way for a long while, neither speaking nor moving, just enjoying each other and their company while giggling fairies flitted by.

All good things must end though, and the Ball did exactly that. Holding hands, Harry and Cho slowly walked into the Great Hall, just in time to witness the shouting match between Ron and Hermione.

"YOU'RE FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY, THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE DOING!"

"RON HE'S MY _DATE _AS I'VE TOLD YOU AGAIN AND AGAIN."

"HE'S A BLOODY DURMSTRANG!"

"LIKE YOU CARE! WE ALL SEE YOU GOING AFTER FLEUR, AND SHE'S IN BEAUXBATONS!"

"THAT'S DIFFERENT!"

"HOW?!" Hermione screeched.

"It just IS!"

"Ronald I'm NOT going to put up with your prejudices!" she screamed at him, sounding close to tears.

"My prejudices?! At least I'm LOYAL!"

"_Loyal?! _Loyal to who?!"

"Harry!"

"What does this have to do with Harry?!"

"You're telling Victor what we're going to do!"

"I am _not_!"

"Yes you-" but Ron never got to finish, as Hermione strode forward and slapped him straight across the face before running back to the Gryffindor Tower, crying.

Silently, Ron turned around, and with slow, deliberate steps, walked out in the same direction while the entire school stared at him.

Harry looked at Cho, his eyes wide, and she squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It'll be alright Harry. From what you tell me, they row all the time, but deep down, they're meant for each other." Harry nodded knowing that eventually, all would be well. Their friendship had survived worse things. He was surprised at her immediate analysis of Ron and Hermione's relationship though. It had taken him a great deal of time and thought to figure out what took Cho only seconds.

He supposed girls just had the knack for that sort of thing.

They walked out of the Great Hall again, still talking earnestly about anything and everything.

"Well Harry," said Cho at the foot of the stairs "I had a great time tonight."

"So did I."

"I wish it didn't have to end but..." she broke off with a sigh that Harry reciprocated.

"Good night Harry." He kissed her softly, "Night Cho."

He walked away, holding her hand for as long as possible. She waved before he was out of sight, and could hardly resist screaming with happiness. She had pictured what a perfect night could have been, and, aside from Ron and Hermione's fight, this had surpassed it in every single way.

She went to sleep, feeling as though their were no wrongs in her life. She, Cho Chang, had been Harry Potter's date, kissed him, and was now his girlfriend.

And Harry, as he lay down for bed, he felt exactly the same.

**Author's Note: Thanks for everyone who reviewed! The more you review, the quicker I update. Sorry guys, but that's just how it goes. I apologize for all the fluff. I couldn't help it :D. Next Chapter will be the Second Task. If you want updates, feel free to look at my profile, it'll tell you where I am with the chapters. Thanks for sticking with me!- sasansan**

**P.S. - if you notice, I often go back to update and change chapters. I changed this one already, adding about 800 words. See? Your reviews tell me where to go. None of my chapters are the originals, but they're better thanks to you guys.  
**


	4. The Second Task

_"Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you're searching, ponder this:_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took._

_But past an hour - the prospect's black_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back"_

The words of the Golden Egg echoed hauntingly in Harry's head as he went to sleep the night before the 2nd task. Earlier in the week and not knowing what he would do, he'd been sick with nerves. Fortune smiled on him when, walking along the lake and trying to think, he had a chance encounter with Neville Longbottom, whose Herbology expertise had been exactly what Harry needed.

He had then called Dobby and asked him to bring some Gillyweed from Snape's private stores on the day of the task; it was a plant found in highland lochs that would give whoever ate it fish-like traits, and Dobby had been only to happy to oblige. Harry was now content with their course of action, but when he laid down at night, he'd always come back to ponder those words "_We've taken what you'll sorely miss_,"

Naturally, he knew what he would miss the most: Cho Chang, his girlfriend. _But no_, he thought before he drifted off to sleep, _s__urely they wouldn't be that crazy_.

* * *

The following morning was relatively normal and didn't betray the drama that would be taking place later in the day.

The Second Triwizard Task would start at noon.

But Harry, and the rest of the champions were ready.

Grim determination aside, they still had a hard time eating breakfast.

"Come on!" urged Cho, as Harry just moved around the eggs and sausage "You need to eat. Open up."

He unconsciously obeyed, and Cho shoved half a slice of toast in. He almost choked, but manfully swallowed it. Above regret, his girlfriend merely smiled at him with a smug expression on her pretty asian face "You'll thank me for it later."

He couldn't help but see the wisdom of her words. Well _damn _those Ravenclaws.

In the short weeks following the Yule Ball their relationship had blossomed. It was hard to find one without the other outside of class, and the couples contentment was so great that it made those with weaker stomachs sick after too much exposure.

Couples aspired to be like them, while guys and girls sighed in envy. They were, commented Cho's best friend one night, _quite _the fetching couple. Many of the same people who sighed in envy also muttered jealously whenever the pair walked by, hand in hand.

They didn't care.

* * *

Harry remembered the day when a particularly irritated Ron decided to put his foot down.

"You don't even talk to me any more," he complained, after Harry had a particularly Cho filled day. Not paying attention, he continued to mentally relive the walk along the lake that he'd taken with her. It may have been the middle of winter, but the grounds were no less beautiful for it.

"Oi!" yelled Ron, but Harry still didn't respond.

"OUCH!" Harry shot up, grabbing his arm. Ron had thrown a book at him and was now looking at Harry with a successful expression.

"Ron," said Hermione warningly. The argument during the Ball, had, surprisingly, not done much to their friendship. They were slightly more polite to each other than they would have been, but Harry didn't see this as cause to worry. In fact, it was a welcome reprieve to their daily sessions of bickering.

"What?" said Harry distractedly.

"I _said _that we barely talk any more!"

"That's not true," Harry tried to protest, but memories came unbidden into his head. Him and Cho at breakfast, lunch and dinner. Him and Cho during breaks. Him and Cho between classes.

"Well okay, maybe a little!" he said hurriedly, when Ron opened his mouth to make an angry retort.

"Ronald's right Harry," admonished Hermione "I think you two need to spend a little more time together."

They both looked at her like she was mental, and she colored. "What?! That's what you've been telling _me_ Ron!"

He looked highly affronted, "Yes but not _like that_," Ron spluttered, "I was just- it was completely- Harry do you want to play a game of chess?"

"Sure!" he responded immediately, eager to avoid any more of Ron's and Hermione's disagreements. They flipped a coin to decide which side they would be, leaving Hermione to mutter darkly about boys.

Naturally, Ron buried Harry time and time again, but he didn't care. He'd forgotten just how good his friends were, and quietly resolved to balance out his time a little more.

"Checkmate," said Ron for what seemed like the millionth time that day. Harry groaned, but secretly enjoyed the mental challenge.

But now it was the day of the Second Task, and thoughts like these were pushed out of his mind as he succumbed to nerves.

* * *

"You'll do brilliantly," said Cho in a firm voice as she stroked Harry's head. It was only a few hours before the task, and she sat with Harry on a couch, surrounded by Ron, Hermione, and her best friend Samantha.

Samantha and her had been close for ages, they'd met their first day on the train and she'd hit it off surprisingly well with Harry and his friends. She was a medium sized girl of Welsh decent, very pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her and Ron were embroiled in a particularly intense game of chess that Hermione watched with interest, occasionally offering advice to whichever side needed it.

"Miss Chang?" came an unexpected voice. They all turned to regard Professor McGonagall, and her normally stern look was almost... nervous. And that made Harry nervous as well.

"Yes?" Cho replied skeptically.

"An important matter has come up, and I'll need to see you immediately. You too Miss Granger," said the Transfiguration teacher, resorting to her normally brisk and professional manner.

"Okay," they both said, rather hesitantly.

"You'll understand soon enough," responded McGonagall to the questioning looks on their faces, and she favored them all with a rare smile.

"Well, Harry," Cho turned to look at him apologetically. She kissed him deeply on the lips for a few seconds, then whispered "Good luck" into his ear before standing up to leave. Samantha and Ron made gagging noises, and as she walked by, Cho's foot 'accidentally' hit their chessboard, overturning all their pieces. Laughing, Hermione wished Harry good luck as well then went with Cho to accompany McGonagall.

Harry briefly wondered where they were going, before Ron asked if he wanted to play. Shrugging, Harry agreed, but Samantha found him so terrible that she ended up playing for him.

She won, and Ron's appalled expression was almost enough to make up for the absence of two of their friends. Almost.

Time seemed to act in much the same way as during the first task, and in what seemed like mere minutes, Harry found himself headed towards the Black Lake. Gleeful and excited students surrounded him, but try as he might he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge their "Knock em' dead Potter!"'s and "You get em' Harry!"'s.

The Gillyweed was clutched in his left hand, feeling like strings of cold, wet spaghetti.

He felt strangely detached, as though he were watching everything through another person's eyes. Combing the bleachers, he found no hint of Cho or Hermione, in fact he was so intent on finding them that he was nearly late.

"Ah, the last Champion!" boomed Ludo Bagman enthusiastically when Harry showed up, out of breathe.

Krum and Fleur both wished him luck, but Cedric just gave him a hard look before turning away.

"AND HERE ARE YOUR CHAMPIONS!" boomed Bagman's magically enhanced voice as they walked slowly into the water, led by Harry and Krum who had the most points. The chilliness of the water nearly took his breathe away. "THEY WILL HAVE ONE HOUR, I REPEAT ONE HOUR TO COMPLETE THEIR TASK."

"LET THE GAMES BEGIN! CHAMPIONS READY? ALL RIGHT THEN! IN THREE, TWO, ONE, _GO!"_

Harry quickly shoved the Gillyweed into his mouth and chewed hard. He swallowed it, and it appeared to be having no affect. Embarrassment quickly grew in his stomach as several people laughed. Cedric, Krum and Fleur had disappeared into the water over 10 seconds ago. All of a sudden, Harry couldn't breathe. It was as though a pillow was pressed over his nose and mouth and he sides of his neck felt strangely cold and open.

Bringing his hands up to check it, he felt something that would've made him gasp in surprise had he been able to breathe. Lining his neck on each side, were several rows of gills. He heard people on the bleachers gasp, but he had already ducked his head into the lake, understanding.

Cold water flooded his gills, and he found he could breathe once more.

Far from freezing, the Lake's green water suddenly felt light and airy, caressing him with cool fingers.

Looking at his hands once more, he saw that green webbing connecting his fingers. His feet had extended into flippers, each three feet long. Kicking out, he twisted through the water, adept as any dolphin.

He dived, and noticed with interest that his eyes seemed to adjust to the levels of low light. There were large rocks to one side, and green underwater plants to the other. Instinctively knowing that the rocks were not the way to go, he swam in the opposite direction.

Weaving through forests of kelp, Harry searched for the Merpeople he knew to be down here, listening intently for any sudden sounds.

He turned his head quickly, seeing a shape dart past the corner of his eye. Had he been above water, he would have screamed. The giant squid was moving past him, easily 100 feet long. He felt the jets of water that came from it blow him back, and he shivered in fear when a tentacle wider then a car whipped past his head, missing by inches.

It's great eye fixed on him, and then with huge jet, it swam away, leaving a steadily expanding cloud of black ink.

Somehow, Harry knew this was bad news, and he swam away from it as quickly as he could. His paranoia was confirmed when he saw the black cloud envelop a fish. Instead of brushing past it, it stuck to it like glue. The fish lost the ability to breathe when the ink covered its gills, and it began to slowly float up to the surface.

After several minutes of frantic racing, Harry finally outdistanced the black glue and watched it gradually sink towards the bottom.

Harry kicked his flippers, heading towards a raised hill. He kept his ears open for any snatches of Mersong, but if there were any, they escaped him.

Scanning the floor of the lake from his elevated position, a flash of silver caught Harry's attention. He swam towards it, threading his way between the sharp rocks that jutted out of the floor. The first thing his eyes saw were multitudes of thin, orange and whip like tentacles. Chancing closer inspection, the found that they were Grindylows.

He was ready to swim away when the flash of silver came again, this time from the middle of the mob of grinning water demons. Trapped, a young Merperson reached out to Harry for help with a green hand, before yet another Grindylow latched onto it and pulled her down some more.

Kicking forward with his legs, Harry brandished his wand like a sword. Whenever it made contact with one of the creatures, there was a flash of light, and they would swim away ill-temperedly, burns on the area that Harry's wand had brushed.

The grabbed onto him with long fingers, but after Professor Lupin's class last year, Harry had no problem breaking their grips. Realizing that they couldn't fight him, the orange animals left in droves.

Finally free, the Merperson, a young girl, looked at Harry with grateful, sea green eyes. "_Thank you_," came a lovely voice, resembling that which he'd heard from his egg, and he looked the Mermaid girl in shock. He tried to say "You're welcome" but all the came out was a bubble of air. Giggling, the Mermaid girl beckoned with sharp nailed hands. "_Come. They're this way."_

Who's this way? he wanted to ask, but underwater he was mute as a rock.

She led him over a deep scar in the bottom of the lake, with water cold enough that even Harry was chilled. Then over a great underwater garden, covered with brightly colored plants that waved in the currents.

She pushed him behind a rock when several big shapes began to drift their way. Peeking out, Harry saw large reptiles, larger even than crocodiles, at least 20 feet long. They were a deep blue in color, but gore coated their massive jaws. After several tense minutes, they left their hiding place, swimming low and fast.

Finally, after diving through a shoal of glittering trout, Harry found himself in the strangest village he'd every seen.

Huts were erected under the water using slabs of stone, and Merpeople like the one Harry had just rescued floated outside of them. They glared at Harry with cunning eyes, much wilder in appearance than his escort. Green hair floated around them in clouds and several held vicious looking spears.

Strange, manatee-like creatures were tethered to some huts, and Harry reasoned that they must provide some form of food.

"_There_" the girl beckoned, indicating the center of the village. Harry braved the hostile stares and swam forward, but the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks.

Tied to long wooden poles in the center of the Merpeople's village were 4 people. Only one mattered to Harry. Cho was there, eyes closed as if in sleep, her raven hair in a nimbus around her.

Glancing at the other poles however, he was shocked to see Hermione, Cho's friend Marietta, and a stunning young blonde girl, who he could only imagine as Fleur's sister.

Concentrating first on Cho, he used _Diffindo! _to slash through the ties holding her. When he moved on to the others however, an abnormally large and fierce looking Merperson swam up to brandish her weapon at him.

"_Only one!"_ the haunting tones cried sharply. Harry tried to explain that he cared about all of them, brandishing his wand trying to get a point across. What he thought was the Chieftain backed up, looking apprehensively at the stick in Harry's hand. The girl that had brought him there went to calm her people down, while Harry began to resume freeing his friends.

"_You may take them, if you do not use that wand_," she told Harry in gentle words.

He nodded, grateful for her help. She gave him a sharp toothed smile, and then all the Merpeople swam away in to their houses, leaving Harry quite alone.

Once he was finished, he grabbed all of the ropes that had held them and used them to tow the unconscious people to the surface.

He was almost sorry to be leaving the watery world. It was beautiful, and the feelings he felt down here were almost as though he was flying. However he knew his time was running short, and he kicked even harder.

The gills in his neck closed up when his head broke the surface, and he was suddenly freezing.

The four people he had saved bobbed up around him, and as soon as they took their first breathe they awoke. "Harry!" screamed Cho, while the rest of them said similarly shocked statements.

Judging from Hermione's and Marietta's hysterical yells, they couldn't swim. The tiny little blonde was in shock at waking up in the water, and couldn't seem to collect herself.

Absurdly tired, Harry, with Cho's help, managed to pull the babbling blonde girl and a terrified Hermione and Marietta to the edge of the lake, upon which time the judges descended to help them.

"What are you doing with _them_!?" cried Karkaroff in fury, gesturing towards the three girls that weren't Cho.

"Well I wasn't going to _leave _them down there," said Harry hotly.

"They were not yours to save!"

"Well I saved them anyway!"

Giving a roar of irritation, he walked away, threatening the air.

Just then Cedric surfaced, followed closely by Victor.

They swam towards them quickly, and whereas Victor looked thankful and relieved, Cedric's handsome face was mottled with anger.

"Potter!" he walked straight up, wrapping his hands around Harry's collar and nearly lifting him off the ground. "What do you think you're playing at!" he hissed. "It wasn't enough to take Cho from me? You have to try to take her too?"

"Excuse me," said Cho sharply, "Harry didn't _take _me from you! There never _was _a me and you."

"There-"

"Enough," came a quiet voice. Everyone stopped to look at Dumbledore, who was walking towards them, the picture of serenity.

"Cedric," the Hufflepuff boy inclined his head "I'm going to need to request that you calm down," he looked away, abashed.

"And Harry," Dumbledore continued "I must ask why you brought them all up. Surely you knew that only Miss Chang was yours to save?"

"No..." he mumbled, looking at his feet. Shame washed through him, strong and untainted, it was all so _obvious _now.

"Ere' is my seester?" said the tiny blonde girl suddenly, and Harry realized that he too had not seen Fleur for sometime.

"I as' wondering za same zing myself!" said the Beauxbatons Headmistress throatily.

Just then, the Merperson who Harry had saved came to the surface of the lake. She urgently screeched some harsh syllables at Dumbledore, who paused with a thinking look before responding in kind.

The exchange continued on for several minutes, and Harry grasped that she was recounting the events to the Headmaster.

However, after a particularly long string of Mermish, Dumbledore gasped, and tears shone in his eyes.

"Professor, what-?' Harry began, but he stopped him with a cut of the hand.

The Merperson finished up her narrative, then looked at Harry and said, with extremely disjointed and accented english "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he replied, while Cho looked at him strangely. The girl nodded at him, and then submerged herself into the water.

"_Sonorus_," Harry heard Dumbledore quietly murmur. His voice though, when he spoke, far from being boisterous and joyful like Ludo Bagman's, was sad and reserved.

"It would appear," the Headmaster said "That the Beauxbatons Champion, Ms. Fleur Delacour, has fallen." Not a sound was made as his voice permeated the Black Lake and the area around it, but you could see the surprise in everyone's faces. Even the Slytherins appeared taken aback at the news.

"The Giant Squid is a magnificent creature," he sighed, "Magnificent, but dangerous. It's easily spooked, and Miss Delacour had the misfortune to run into it during such a time. She fought heroically, but by the time the Merpeople had arrived, it was already too late. She will be missed. I do not believe that it is assumptious of me to ask you all to join me in a moment of silence, for the Beauxbatons Champion."

For several minutes, only the howling wind and stifled sobbing could be heard, and as black as the lake was, the mood was darker still.

"Thank you." said Dumbledore, after the silent reflection, "For the moment, the Triwizard Tournament is on hold, until we can perform a memorial honoring this brave, brave young woman. Further information will be posted within the Common Rooms or distributed by your Heads. Congratulations to our remaining Champions, Mister Potter, Mister Krum, and Mister Diggory. You are all dismissed."

"_Quietus_," he murmured, and his voice returned to normal.

Madame Maxime, a shocked look upon her elegant features, escorted the sobbing blonde haired girl towards their carriage. The rest of the school too, slowly left, but Harry stood, frozen, holding a tearful Cho tightly.

Cedric left too, his face blank, and Krum followed shortly after with a sad look on his surly brows.

"Harry," Dumbledore called when the last of the spectators had left, "a word, if you please."

Cho, wrapped in a blanket and clinging to his side looked pleadingly at Dumbledore, who nodded allowing her to stay.

"I'd just like to tell you what an outstanding job you did. Saving the Merchieftain's daughter." Harry simply nodded numbly. How close had he come to death that day? If he had made one wrong move, why... He could barely think about it. And Fleur... he had seen the Giant Squid as well. Maybe, just maybe...

"Do not blame yourself for Miss Delacour's death Harry," said Dumbledore sharply, catching the look on his face "It was neither your fault, nor within your ability to save her. Sometimes the world simply chooses people to leave us. Think of the good. You did a wondrous thing today, you should be proud. A Merperson is alive and swimming in that lake because of your courage and ability. That is, I believe, the fourth life you've officially saved."

Cho looked at Harry with pride, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The Headmaster's face relaxed and he smiled, "Ah, to be young again. Do not worry Harry, this was beyond your control. In fact, it was beyond mine's as well."

"It's just..." said Harry, and his voice sounded close to breaking "I saw the Giant Squid as well. It was right in front of me."

"I do not teach this," said Dumbledore firmly, "But sometimes, pure luck dictates outcomes."

Just then Cho gave a particularly violent shiver, and Harry held her tighter. "Oh, I'm sorry, pardon my thoughtlessness." He waved his wand at Harry and Cho, and suddenly they were warm and dry, smelling slightly of springtime.

"Now come," he said, "Let us go back to the castle."

Harry slowly nodded, and a calm acceptance filled him. There wasn't anything he could have done. What he _could _do, was honor her memory by competing to the best of his abilities in the coming task.

And holding each other, Harry and Cho marched slowly up to the castle, sad, but at peace.

**Author's Note: Yes. I killed her. I didn't even realize I was going to until the Champions surfaced. For all of you Fleur fans well... sorry. haha. I think it's interesting, my interpretations of the book. Or rather, what I thought the book should have been. The main points will be the same, I'm just going to reshuffle them a bit, in my image. Please read and review! Leave my any questions or comments, but NO FLAMES. Please. And will the merpeople play a part later? I'm not sure. Maybe. Coming up is Fleur's Memorial. The third task was going to be next, but due to how events unfolded, that's just not going to work. Thanks for everyone who's been reading!- sasansan**


	5. Flowering Abilities

It was with somber expressions that the contents of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry descended to breakfast on the morning of March first. Less than a week ago, Fleur Delacour of Beaxbatons Academy of Magic fell victim to the Giant Squid during the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

Fleur was 17 years old.

The Tournament had been temporarily put on hold due to her death. It would resume once her memorial was finished, although the Champions had already received their scores. Cedric and Viktor both scored a 5 from each judge. They had only completed the task halfway, as Harry had saved their person. And as of Harry, the debate on his scores were heated. Karkaroff thought personally that Harry clearly over stepped the rules in an attempt to pursue his own glory. A still grieving Madame Maxime was no help to the debate, although she did on occasion defend Harry. Ludo Bagman and Dumbledore were his staunch supporters, with the former the most outspoken. In the end, Mr. Crouch decided that Harry simply did not know any better, and that they should have explained the task more clearly.

Karkaroff could not help but agree that they had been a little vague, but to his fury, Harry received a perfect score.

Everyone wore mellow robes of black to their first meal of the day. The memorial would begin at 9, and no normal classes were taking place. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Magic Creatures had decided not to take care the Giant Squid. No one was surprised, it had been an accident after all, and along with that it was a rare and deeply magical creature. Of course, being as long as a Quidditch Pitch aids one in avoiding destruction.

Fleur's parents and relatives had come in from France, and grief marred the beautiful and striking face of her mother. Monsieur Delacour was a plump, very kind looking man who himself told the entire school that he blamed no one, saying in a thick french accent 'What 'as 'appened, 'as 'appened, but it does not lessen our grief any less.'

The entire school shuffled out once they were finished with breakfast, heading towards the rim of the Black Lake. A circular podium of white marble was surrounded by hundreds of chairs, already being filled. There were no sounds as the witches and wizards took seat, awaiting the start of the service.

The day was beautiful, a clear blue harmonized with bursts of birdsong. It was at odds with the rather depressing atmosphere shrouding everyone.

Dumbledore himself rose to the podium, and looked around calmly before beginning to speak.

"Nobility of spirit. Personal grace. Great beauty and charm. All these words symbolize traits that existed within the young Fleur Marie Delacour."

Her mother sobbed quietly in the front, while her other daughter clung tightly to her father's robes. Cho squeezed Harry's hand as they looked on.

"Though she may be gone, the qualities that made her up live on in each of you, if you choose to accept and live by them. Born to Pierre and Aurore Delacour, it was apparent at an early age that she possessed great potential. Unusually gifted and heartbreakingly beautiful, she excelled within Madame Beauxbatons Academy of Magic."

He bowed his head once to the tearful Headmistress.

"Though I have known her only a short while, it saddens me that she had to leave us. Only the world knows why, but I am confident that she is in a better place. After all, to those who lived with honor, to those of great minds, to those of strong hearts, death is nothing more than the next great adventure. And I do not doubt for a second that this magnificent young witch was all of these. Many of those who loved her wish to speak, to share their memories of her with you, so that you may take part in the wonder of life that was Miss Fleur Delacour, Champion of Beauxbatons."

Monsieur Delacour stood up then, gently prying Fleur's sister Gabriella off of his fine black robes. He walked to the podium with a sad, but brave air around him. His magically enhanced voice resonated through everyone, ear, mind and soul. His speech was short, but powerful.

"My daughtair was a wonderful young woman. It seems zat she was too good for our world, too pure. My 'eart still aches when I zink about what I 'ave lost, but it appears zat zis was to be, and 'oo am I to fight it. You were lent to us for a short time, to add light to our lives. So bright you shone, so dark my world is now. We will mizz you," he finished simply.

He left the stage, walking with slow, deliberate steps until he reached his seat. Madame Delacour hugged him tightly, but his sad eyes held a level of calmness and serenity that impressed Harry.

Madame Maxime ascended to the podium, and, towering over the others, began to speak.

"I remembair when I first saw ze young Delacour. Even zen, she was impresseeve, zo young and full of life." she chuckled wetly "'Owever, it was not my preevilige to be able to watch her grow up and become ze beautiful woman she would 'ave become." She heaved a great sigh here, and, after recounting the first time she had met Fleur, sat down.

Ludo Bagman too rose to speak, and his typically boisterous voice was very serious, his eyebrows furrowed. "Fleur was... Unlike anyone I had ever met before. And at my age, I've been around," he tried to joke. No one laughed. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he continued "I watched her closely, Triwizard judge you know, and I saw it immediately that she was very talented. Fabulous wand work, I couldn't have done half of it. However even the best of us... Sometimes things... Maybe we..." He took a deep breathe, collecting his thoughts "My very deepest condolences to her family. We... we tried to prevent these sort of things but..." he trailed off, his forehead pinched and troubled and he left to walk back to his seat, his steps devoid of their usual bounce. Harry was surprised by how sincere the former Quidditch Star seemed.

Many others rose to speak, most with accents. Harry hadn't known Fleur very well, but the fond stories and heartfelt sorrow touched him, and he felt several tears drip down his cheeks. He pulled Cho tighter to him, trying to fill the hollow in his chest. She buried her face in his shoulder to hide her own tears.

After the last speaker, a portly Frenchman with a cherry red nose, Harry felt as though he had known Fleur his entire life. Far from worsening his feelings, it actually helped him reach a state of closure by feeling as though now that he knew her, he could better honor her memory.

Her death increased his already burning desire to win the tournament, and he saw his look of resolve mirrored on the faces of Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory. It was as though a portion of her fire had entered each of them.

The service was finally over, and Dumbledore once more took the center. He spoke very formally, perhaps due to the grimness of his message, "In light of the fact that there is no... body. May each of you take a flower? When you have one, please, find a spot around the lake."

Two burly wizards entered with uniform steps, bearing a casket. When they opened it, wonderful smells assaulted the noses of those gathered. Hundreds, maybe thousands of flowers were within, freshly picked and vibrant with color and life. Forming a line, the procession each selected a single bloom. Harry's was a white rose, Cho's a a scarlet, star shaped blossom that he had no name for.

They slowly walked towards one of the few sandy spots on the shore, one they had used for a picnic before. That time was so much happier than the melancholy events of the day.

"Are you all situated?" came the voice of the Headmaster, "You are? Then we may proceed. I shall ask you to breathe a prayer, a wish, something for Fleur, onto her namesake."

_I hope you're in a better place,_ thought Harry intently as he stared at the rose cupped in his palms. He looked to his girlfriend, her hands were clasped together, her head bowed, and he felt a rush of fierce protectiveness for her.

Dumbledore's loud, magically suffused voice still came across as a whisper. "Gently lay your flowers into the water."

Multitudes of glowing blossoms were slowly washed away in the current. It was a powerful sight for Harry, and a film of tears obscured his eyes once more. "Goodbye, Fleur Marie Delacour. You will be missed, may you find love and happiness, wherever you are."

So concluded the memorial of the Beauxbatons Champion. So the young witch was laid to rest, along with her dreams and aspirations. So they said good bye.

* * *

It took a week to get things back on track for a group of people still reeling from an unexpected death.

On the seventh night after the funeral however, Dumbledore and a slightly shrunken Bagman announced the resumption of the Triwizard Tournament. The third and final task would be an 'obstacle course, of sorts' taking place on the 24th of June.

He had just a little under 5 months to prepare, but then again, so did the other champions. Even worse, they had 3 more years of magical training then he did. Scrambling for help, he'd sent out Owl's to all of the adult wizards he knew. Of course, that brought the total to around three, Sirius, Lupin, and Ron's father.

Their responses to him were overwhelming, lists of dangerous creatures and defenses against them. Charms paired with counter charms, jinxes with counter jinxes, and hexes with counter spells. It was everything he wanted, and more. There were even books with moving pictures, showcasing wild beasts attacking wizards who put up successful defenses... as well as failed ones.

Harry could only hope there wouldn't be a manticore; a wizard had _never _beaten one in recorded memory.

It was hard for him to admit, but Cho was taking this loads better than he was. Sure, she was shaken, but whereas Harry grew incredibly nervous whenever he thought about it, Cho was able to rationally confront it. She'd already begun planning a basic timeline for his training, and even Hermione was impressed at the results. Although, he noticed distastefully, she'd added 'Homework Time' sections. Harry figured those could be filled with Ron's chess games.

"I had a lot of practice last year," Cho modestly shrugged off their compliments. "Roger hated making schedules, and since I was the new girl, well..." Harry's nostrils flared slightly. So Davies made Cho do his work, did he? Well, he'd found a particularly promising jinx for making everything you carried twice as heavy, maybe _then _they'd see if Roger could work.

"But, where are we going to practice?" asked Hermione.

"_We_?" said Harry skeptically. "Don't be thick mate," responded Ron, "you're not getting ready _alone_."

"Really Harry," giggled Cho, "that was a given. But Hermione's right, we need a space to practice."

"Oh well that's the easy part. There's loads of unused classrooms."

"What if someone comes?" said his girlfriend nervously. "Prefects," muttered Ron, and Harry repressed a smile.

He winked at the Ravenclaw "I still have _some _secrets. But don't worry," he finished nonchalantly, "I'll tell you everything later."

She smiled widely at him, and he blushed. Ron gagged in the corner, and Samantha, who'd just sat down, kicked him under the table.

"Bloody git," she whispered under her breathe. "Banshee," he muttered back, wincing when her foot struck his shin for the second time.

Harry and Hermione laughed at their antics, but when he looked to Cho her gaze was surprised, albeit pleasantly so.

"What-?" he began to ask, but she shushed him with a swift kiss, whispering in his ear that she'd tell him later.

* * *

"They _what?!_" he yelled after dinner an hour later, when, now alone, Cho had told him what she noticed. She kept nodding, "Yes, yes they like each other, I can tell. Girl's intuition," she tapped her forehead with a slender forefinger.

"B-but," Harry spluttered "Ron _can't. _I mean, Hermione!"

"What about Hermione?" said Cho matter of factly "She's with Krum now."

"It's... It's... It's just _wrong_!" For so long now he'd always thought that his two best friends would be together, but to have his theory suddenly disapproved was such a big shock that his mind instantly rejected it. He ran his hand through his hair in an agitated sort of manner.

"Calm down Harry, calm down," she enveloped him in a hug, "It doesn't mean they'll _never _be together. Just not now."

He nodded slowly. Now that he'd gotten past the initial surprise, it really didn't seem to be that big of a deal. As long as they're happy he supposed.

"So what was it you were going to tell me earlier?" asked Cho interestedly. "Mmm, what?" asked Harry; she was idly stroking his hair and he was finding it hard to concentrate. She rolled her eyes, "Remember? Great Hall? Secrets? Right before my epiphany."

"Oh right!" exclaimed Harry, suddenly remembering. "Well, maybe you'd fancy sitting down first."

"Okay..." they found a secluded alcove. Cho sat down on a bench, patting the space next to her with a confused expression.

"Alright, don't do anything until you've heard the whole story? This is... this is big."

She promised, taking one of his hands in both of her own.

"Well," he began "remember Professor Lupin, last year?" She bobbed her head, "I liked him."

"And you know that he was a werewolf, right?" She bobbed her head once more, wondering where this was going.

"Good. Because that's where all of this starts. With Remus becoming a werewolf." he almost smiled, he'd started the tale in the exact same way that his former Professor had, more than half a year ago. Cho listened with growing amazement as the story unfolded. Remus' best friends, the things they had done for him, she marveled at it. It typically took 10 years of intensive study in becoming an Animagus. They'd managed it in 3.

Harry then started to describe the events which had taken place at the end of last year, starting with Scabber's sudden reappearance in Hagrid's House. She hugged him close when he told her the truth about Pettigrew and his parents. By they time he had gotten to the part where he had conjured his Patronus, the hand she held was being tightly squeezed. The grip relaxed somewhat when he finished, and she snuggled into him with a thinking expression on her pretty face.

He waited apprehensively for her response. Would she think him crazy? That he was lying? Or worse, would it too much for her, so much so that she had to end it?

"But, I don't see what that has to do with us not getting caught in empty classrooms," she finally said. His relief was so great that he had to laugh for a second.

Cho could only watch in bewilderment when he pulled out a ratty looking piece of parchment. He tapped it with his wand saying, instead of a spell "I solemnly swear that I, am up to no good."

Black lines erupted onto the paper from the wand's point of contact. They ran this way and that, and yet more lines split off. After several seconds, the process was done with words in an elegant, flowing script at the top.

"_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present_** The Marauders Map**"

"I don't under..." Cho trailed off when she finally saw what this was. "_Wicked_," she whispered under her breathe. It was a perfect replication of Hogwarts, but even more amazing were the labeled dots. "Wait!" she said suddenly, "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, aren't they-?" "My father and his friends?" finished Harry with a grin. "Yep."

Amazing, she thought, somehow they had managed to put Hogwarts, an unplottable, powerful and ancient magical location onto a map. What's more, they had laid bare the castle's secrets, with more secret passageways than she would have imagined. It must have taken ages to make this, and she couldn't even begin to think what kind of effort had gone into making a spell that showed the people's location.

She examined the map for some time, but Harry's grin caught her eye. "So, what do you think of my Godfather?" he laughed. "Convicted killer, armed fugitive that he is."

"He seems like a _lovely _man," she responded in civil tones, all the while fighting to keep her voice steady. Harry's smile widened, he saw right through her.

"But," continued Cho in tones that made him very nervous "you still have to find out about _my _father. And you already know about my brothers."

She watched with satisfaction when his face paled. "Good for you," she said, laughing while she stroked his hand.

He ran his other hand through his hair, pondering. "Do I _want _to find out about him?"

Cho merely shrugged, an innocent look in her eyes.

Harry was about to tickle it out of her, but then he saw the time. "Bloody hell, we have to _go_."

She was about to shrug it off, but then she saw it too and her eyes widened. They took off, fingers still interlocked. Still, she couldn't repress a giggle when he went in the opposite direction from Ravenclaw Tower. It looks like even Harry had some secrets he needed to learn.

* * *

"Come on Harry, concentrate!" yelled Ron as Harry tried to transfigure a table into smoke. It was slow work for the moment, as he had just learned the charm. The area that he was pointing at had floated away, but even though it was spreading along the edges, the progress was painstakingly slow. It was only after copious amounts of practice that one could hope to instantaneously change an object into smoke.

"You can do it Harry," he heard Cho murmur to herself from the side, and her desire for his success lit a fire in his mind. He focused every ounce of his willpower on changing that table; it sped up rapidly, the top of it was completely gone, it licked down the table legs and- the rest of the table floated away in black coils.

Hermione was the first one who spoke, "Harry, that was..."

"Amazing, bloody amazing," spoke Ron hoarsely.

Harry started to speak, "But I- _oof_!"

"Harry that was brilliant!" gushed Cho, her arms were wrapped tightly around him. "I- can't- breathe." he laughed.

"Cho," came the dry warning voice of Samantha, "It's the tournament that's supposed to kill him. Not the girlfriend."

She briefly let go of Harry to glare at her best friend while Ron and Hermione collapsed on the sidelines.

It had surprised Harry (not to mention everyone else) how rapidly he had advanced. He'd mastered defensive spell work, powerful hexes, jinxes and curses, and even some of the more advanced forms of Transfiguration. All of them were sure to help with the final task.

Reading the books sent to him had taught Harry a surprising thing; straightforward attacks were the _worst _way to go about it.

He'd read of famous duels that were won with well used counters, the Headmaster himself had beaten the Dark Wizard Grindelwald when he'd attempted to crush Dumbledore with a rock. Responding by redirecting the Earth magic in the spell to turn Grindelwald into a tree, he won the duel. Harry was even more surprised at how ofter Professor Flitwick seemed to crop up. He'd once heard that in his youth, the Charms teacher was a talented dueler, but the man had nearly beat Dumbledore himself in an exhibition match for Merlin's sake!

Ron was scrambling to keep up with Harry, being his dueling partner, but after the first month or so he was so outclassed that Samantha had to team up with him in order to even pose a challenge to Harry (Hermione was reluctant and he staunchly refused to point a wand at Cho).

Hermione finally recovered, "Alright, one more time Harry," she said briskly. Cho gave him a quick kiss on the lips before gliding over to the sidelines.

Harry closed his eyes, focusing. He pointed his wand at another table, and concentrated, eyebrows in a V. "_Extricus!_"' he commanded, instantly the table was gone. Its shape remained, but it was now composed of dark smoke, which began coiling away at the edges. After several seconds, the clouds of gray floated out of the window.

Everyone was in shock. He'd been progressing well, extraordinarily so, but so much that he could accomplish in several hours what took some months? Ron and Hermione's mouth hung open, and even Samantha seemed at a loss for words.

Cho's gaze was something else entirely. Growing up among people who hated him at worst and disliked him at best had deprived Harry of many things. So much so that he almost didn't recognize the expression on his girlfriend's face.

But when he did, suddenly nothing else mattered. It didn't matter that in someone in the school was out to get him, it didn't matter that in little over a month he'd be competing in the most dangerous competition known to wizard kind. It didn't matter because the expression lighting up Cho's face; was pride.

**Author's Note: Ah, this was a pretty hard chapter to write... I can tell there'll be a lot of critiques already :P but that's alright. I'm thinking the next chapter should be pretty good though. I'm way better at writing battle scenes than gooey mushy ones haha. Next chapter will be the Third Task, the conclusion of Harry's 4th year and Cho's 5th. Expect it to be up by this weekend. Thanks guys, read and review remember! Although obviously you're already reading x)- sasansan  
**


	6. The Final Task

It's always a surreal moment when you seem to be going through the unbelievable. So it was when Cho agreed to go to the Ball to him, so it was when they kissed for the first time. And so it was once more, as on the 24th of June, Harry Potter stood in his girlfriend's arms. Not saying good bye, never that, but good luck. Cries of merriment and instruments assaulted his ears, but the words Cho whispered to him were clear as a bell.

"Come on Potter, Lions for the Cup." Her calm, soft voice belayed the fear in her stomach.

He hugged her tightly, blocking out the knowledge that this may be the last time he'd ever see her. She kissed him sweetly before they broke apart. People wolf whistled, and she stared into his emerald orbs before detaching herself and going to join their friends. He followed her figure with his eyes as she walked slowly up the stands, head bowed and hands together. People clapped her on the arms and back as she ascended, yelling words of encouragement. She'd just politely nod and walk on.

"Oi! Gather round, you lot!" came Bagman's jovial voice. Harry winced at the sudden noise, although he was grateful for the distraction. He had to get his mind off her. Had to focus. But he couldn't help it, he glanced back one last time. Her eyes connected with his, and he flashed back to that long ago time in the Great Hall. She merely nodded at him, her face serious, and Harry was filled with iron certitude. He could do this. He _would_ do this.

"Harry! Over here, quickly!" He finally turned away from Cho and jogged towards the former Beater. The two other champions were already there, Viktor stood alone, Cedric with his father and mother. Harry felt a pang of sadness, Fleur should have been here too. The two wizard's determined looks mirrored Harry's own, whereas Mr. and Mrs. Diggory looked plain nervous.

"All right, all right, champions here? Good. Come, come closer." They formed a sort of circle, the four Quidditch players with Cedric's parents on the periphery. "Mr. Potter will be headed in first, you have the most points." Harry nodded numbly, "Mr. Krum? Yes, you will be second, and you Mr. Diggory will follow him momentarily. If you should encounter any... _unusually _dangerous situations, send up red sparks and ministry officials will be there presently. Everyone ready?"

There were steely nods all around the huddle.

"Excellent, excellent. Hold on, I'll inform them that we may begin." he bustled off, leaving them standing together. The tension in the air was so thick, you could've cut it with a knife and spread it on bread. They all shared looks, no one willing to speak the first words.

"Vell," said Viktor finally "I hope you all do very vell. I vish you all the best of the luck." The two Hogwarts Champions responded in kind, shaking his hand firmly. Then they turned to each other.

"Good luck," said Cedric, with a look that plainly said he didn't mean it.

"Same to you," said Harry sincerely, the animosity between the Hufflepuff and himself was completely one sided. They shook hands as well, Cedric seemed to be restraining himself from breaking Harry's with great difficulty. He was just grateful that Cedric had done that in the first place.

_"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! WITCHES AND WIZARDS! IT'S TIME!" _boomed Bagman.

The crowd went wild, the champion's names were shrieked repeatedly by boys and girls alike. Sharp whistles and bangs emitted from wand tips as they yelled themselves hoarse.

"_FIRST TO ENTER WILL BE MISTER POTTER, FOLLOWED IN SECOND BY MISTER KRUM, AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST MISTER DIGGORY!" _He repeated his words from earlier. Cheers swelled with each name said. Harry took a deep breathe, gazing at the forbidding hedges.

"_LET THE FINAL TASK OF THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT **BEGIN!**" _A cannon boomed somewhere near the Judge's tent.

_"Harry! Forward!" _He walked towards the entrance into the maze, the cheering seeming suddenly distant, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Cho prayed silently in her seat, flanked by Hermione on one side and Samantha and Ron on the other.

The youngest champion entered between two of the large bushes, feeling strangely claustrophobic. Quickly, more quickly than was natural perhaps, the lights and sounds of the spectators faded away, leaving Harry alone. His breathing was abnormally loud in his ears, and seemed to echo impossibly off of the leaves.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it was unlikely to have been more than 10 minutes. Gradually however, his breathing slowed, although his guard hadn't lowered an inch.

_crack_. A noise was made in the dark, somewhere around the corner. A twig snapping.

His head whipped around, and he rounded the corner, wand up and adrenaline pumping. At first, he thought the pathway was empty.

And then it moved.

A black lion, the size of a small car growled deeply, full of menace. Goosebumps erupted over Harry's skin, his body instinctively screamed at him to run, to hide. He held his ground, whipping through different enchantments in his head.

What had Leonis said in his book of dangerous creatures? _'Remember, use your angles. Unless they have wings, no being can change direction in mid-lunge_.'

Harry remembered this just as the lion attacked, throwing himself to the side. A claw gouged his arm when the beast sailed through the area that Harry's head had been a second ago.

The pain lent him preternatural clarity, the lion's roars and snarls suddenly transformed in his mind. _Gaarrowwlll- issed him! The cub be fast_."

A deep, slow and raspy voice echoed in his ears, the lion began to circle once more._ Got to be pleasing my master now, got to be doing what he's told me. Young this one be though, be the shame when he's gone.  
_

The lion seemed slightly conflicted, his loyalty to his owner versus his noble nature. It drew back, Harry brought his wand higher. The great cat's ears flicked backwards in annoyance. _Tch. I always was hating of those magic sticks._

Its eyes darted back and forth to Harry's flanks. _Left or right? _wondered the lion out loud. It prepared to spring, legs tensing "_Wait!_" Harry yelled automatically, like he would if a person were there. But it wasn't his voice, it was a deep, gravelly coughing bark.

The lion's jaw dropped open, it would've been a comic sight had it not been for the double row of razor sharp teeth nestled within.

_Was that what I think you was just doing?_ Came the lion's incredulous voice.

"_Erm, yes?"_

_You be a Lionsmane then?_

_"I, well, what?"_

_You be a talking to me. Of course you are._

_"A what exactly?"_

_Lionsmane. Talks to cats. Be pretty obvious now yes?_

_"Ah, right, I suppose so."  
_

_Hmm_, the lion seemed to be considering him, _mayhaps me was, a little hasty. _He drew himself up on his hind legs, _I am Wenyama_.

"_I'm, uh, Harry Potter_" he said back, still disconcerted at talking to someone who had only moments ago been trying to kill him. Of course, it didn't help that they weren't completely different species. The lion nodded, _So you are. Look after yourself, Harry Potter, for in this maze there be more than the beasts of Africa._

And with that the midnight black lion padded away into the darkness.

Harry stood in shock for a few seconds, marveling at his newfound ability and his close brush with death.

He turned in the opposite direction, refraining from going through the path of the lion once more. His left foot caught on something, and there was a _twang!_ followed by the wooshing sound of something coming his way, disturbing the air.

"_Diffindo!" _he yelled without thought, slashing in front of him. He felt a net brush the very tips of his left and right fingers, split through the middle. The cut in his wand arm burned when he used it, but he shook off the pain, there'd be time for that later.

He turned another corner, seeing light dimly ahead of him. He followed it, slightly apprehensive.

Harry listened closely for any suspicious movement, even smelled to try and detect any foreboding scents. All he smelled though were juniper leaves, and the area ahead was silent as a rock.

He peeked his head around.

There was yet another clearing, with a lighted lantern in the middle. A tiny elf about a foot tall, lounged on a stump near the lantern, looking bored out of his mind. His entire face brightened when he saw Harry.

"Well hello!" he trilled enthusiastically, taking his chin off of his hand. He had a sharp, ovally face with pointed ears and arched eyebrows. "So you found me! Hi. My name is Sullivan O'Killarney, I'm rather bored. Are you any fun? You look like fun! Oh that looks like an owie!" He said all of this very fast in a light scottish accent, jumping around in his green tunic.

Harry found himself growing rapidly annoyed, until the elf gestured at his shoulder. With a crackle of light and the strong smell of poppy, it closed itself up without even leaving a scar behind for a memory.

"I'm Harry Potter," he replied tentatively. He seemed to be telling his name to a lot of things, but it was preferable to the deathmatches for his life that he'd been worried about. But then again, he'd had those as well.

"That's a cool name, you're a cool guy, am I cool? I think I look cool. Look what I can do!" he back flipped off the stump.

"Ummm," said Harry, at a loss for words.

"You don't think I'm cool, do you?" the elf said dejectedly, he pouted, kicking lightly at the ground.

"Oh no, I think you're very cool," Harry reassured him. Anything that could heal a cut like it was nothing, no matter how irritating, was cool in his books.

The tiny thing's face lit up once more. "That's good! That's very very good and it makes me feel very very good and you know what I want to help you. Let's go!"

Harry used the voice he normally reserved for Dudley, slow, heavily articulated, and with the air that the person he was talking to was very dim. In Dudley's case, it was painfully apt. "I'm sorry, um, Sullivan, but-."

"Call me Sully!" he piped up.

"Alright, Sully. But I'm doing something dangerous okay? You know what dangerous is?"

"I know Mister Harry Potter sir, I'm ready!" he promised "I'll keep very extra quiet so the bad things won't bother us. But if they do then Mister can make friends with them like he did with Wenyama!" Harry resisted the urge to ask how he knew about that, sensing that if he could, the elf would talk forever.

"I really don't think so Sully, it would be-"

"Look what I can do!" said the elf impatiently, he clicked his fingers and the ground several feet to Harry's right turned into a gaping hole 5 feet wide, then closed up again.

Harry gulped. "You can come Sully."

"Great!" he smiled widely. "Let's go now don't want to be late we've got to find the Cup! Oh the Cup is shiny, you'll like it! I like it, but it doesn't talk to me like you do, so I like you more."

"Thanks," grinned Harry, the little guy was starting to grow on him.

"Anytime! Absolutely any, even if I'm at the other end of the Earth!" Then Sully zipped up his lips, and with a single jump landed on Harry's shoulder. He pointed forwards, and Harry marched.

They reached a shimmering net, and Sully waved his hand. A powerful gust came and blew it away.

They reached several goblins, and Sully gestured at the ground. Vines coiled up and wrapped them in place.

They reached a wood troll several meters tall, and Sully's brows creased in concentration. Fire licked up the troll's sides, and he ran with a bellow.

Harry was in love.

But they reached a clearing that was almost identical to the first one, the lantern just glowed a different color. The elf sighed and hopped off Harry's shoulder, "Sully has to go now Harry Potter, but we'll play again okay? I'll give you a hint! Go that way!"

He pointed to the wildest, scariest path leading out of the grove and Harry groaned. Always the hard way huh?

"Bye Sully," he said regretfully. The elf waved a hand morosely and slumped back to the tree stump.

"_Lumos_" murmured Harry before resuming his quest.

He exited the clearing, going the way Sully had indicated. Immediately tendrils uncurled, reaching for him, twisting and clawing. _"Immobulus!_" yelled Harry, and they froze in mid-grab.

Picking his way between the still roots, Harry found himself face to face with the final obstacle. A pack of creatures, 5 in number, paced in front of a pedestal that held a gleaming trophy. The Triwizard Cup.

He braced himself to run, a branch cracked under his foot. They all turned to glare at him. Harry gasped in horror, the creatures wouldn't _stay_.

It wasn't that they were moving, no, they were still for the moment. But always, never ending their body parts were morphing and blurring and shifting into new ones. As he stared at the creature nearest to him, its bared maw became a vicious beak before a black vortex, its claws became talons, then pads, then a grasping human hand. Harry felt sick.

Changelings.

The endlessly shifting group attacked.

"_Impedimenta!" _several stopped as though they had run into a brick wall, but two others kept coming when they weaved around the spell.

_"Solum Speculus!" _yelled Harry, stabbing his wand down in the direction of the nearest one.

The ground opened up in front and swallowed it whole. Its startled yelp became a caw, shifting to a growl before it hit the floor of the pit and choked off abruptly. Harry closed it remorselessly with a second wave of his wand.

He turned to confront the other one, but moved too slowly; its teeth had already sunk into his leg. His first thought was that it wasn't too bad, just a dog bite, but then the constantly shifting mouth began to tear new wounds with each shape.

"_Divello_," he gasped, pointing his wand at its head then flicking it away towards into the pathway he had come from. The changeling was ripped off, tearing out a piece of his leg in the process. He buckled while the dark creature was trapped by the now unfrozen roots.

The three remaining creatures had recovered, and begun to circle him. They didn't immediately attack, wary at the loss of their comrades. Taking advantage of the respite, he healed his leg as best he could with a murmured "_Vigoratus_."

It scabbed over, but part of the muscle was gone and Harry was finding it extremely difficult to stay upright.

Suddenly two of the changelings charged, one heading for either side. Thinking fast, Harry levitated the one on the right and slammed it into the one on the left. They began to limp away, before he stunned them for a good measure.

The last one cocked its head at him, as though wondering if it was a good idea.

It lunged, jaws snapping. "_Ortermino_," said Harry, and the creature looked bemused when he found he couldn't open his mouth any more. He continued the attack, perhaps thinking of using his front legs to claw at him.

_"Petaro __Somnus_," said Harry quietly, and it collapsed just a few feet from him, perfectly asleep.

All was quiet, save for the strange grunting sounds of the unconscious changeling, the Cup glowed softly.

Harry limped forward to grab it, _Nearly done, _he thought.

Just as his hand closed around its handle, the yelling form of Cedric Diggory erupted out of the darkness and tackled him. Together, they were jerked forward by their navels into a swirling pool of light. _No, _thought Harry, when his surroundings disappeared, _this is all wrong_.

* * *

The were jettisoned from the vortex, into a dark and chilly place. Roughly shaped rocks surrounded them, and Harry shivered. They were in a graveyard.

"Harry?" said Cedric as he looked around, utterly perplexed "What's going on here? Where are we?"

"You _tackled _me!" Harry whispered at him, fiercely.

"I did? I did... Funny, I..." he shook his head from side to side.

"Harry!" he gasped. Harry backed up slightly, the Hufflepuff was scaring him.

"Something's happened! I've been bewitched! I remember, I remember, I think I, I think I _killed Fleur!_"

Cedric closed his eyes hard, speaking very quickly. "It was after I told you about the egg, I was walking in the corridor and I heard a noise. And then all of a sudden there were voices in my head! I know it sounds crazy but I remember them. All of them. They told me to do... horrible things. I didn't want to, I didn't want to! They kept coming though, again and again, and then suddenly I was like a spectator. I was watching through my eyes, but I wasn't controlling anything. It was horrible, but it felt so good it was... Harry I think it was the Imperius Curse! Yes it felt just like in Moody's class. And, and.."

He shook his head again, trying to clear it.

"We're in danger! I remember someone saying that, hearing them. I tried to stop you from touching the Cup, it's a Portkey Harry! We have to go, now! Grab the Cup, we have to-" There was a subtle flash of light Cedric's voice cut off. They looked around wildly, a man with a dark cloak had a wand pointed at him. The other arm held something small, what looked like an infant in a blanket.

"_Kill the spare_," hissed the sibilant voice from Harry's nightmares. His scare gave a painful throb.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" came a whinier, nasal voice. There was a flash of horribly familiar green light, and Harry could only watch in frozen horror as a silenced Cedric was struck dead before him.

"No!" Harry choked out.

"Be quiet, boy" came the same malevolent voice "You'll have yours soon enough. _Bring him!_"

Harry was immobilized, then levitated towards a particularly ornate gravestone. "Bind him Wormtail," said Voldemort again, and the small man obeyed, conjuring rope from thin air. Every syllable out of the Dark Lord's mouth sent nails of pain through Harry's scar.

_Wormtail?! _

"WORMTAIL!" Harry roared, the freezing spell broken. He yearned to reach out his hands to throttle the man who had betrayed his parents, but they were already tied to the gravestone by the enchanted rope.

He could only watch, breathing heavily in fury, as the two destroyers of his life stood mere feet from him.

Voldemort continued, oblivious to Harry's pain, or more likely simply uncaring. "Wormtail, do it now. It's time! My strength is already waning."

The small man gestured with his wand hand, and lit a cauldron that Harry hadn't seen until that point; it was so dark that it simply blended in with the moonless night. He wondered why it was so large, it was nearly as tall as himself, and much wider around.

Directing his wand again, the Death Eater made it fill with water, which began to boil almost instantly. He dropped whatever he was carrying inside, and Harry repressed a scream of horror. For swaddled in the cloth was not a healthy baby, but a deformed and strangely stretched looking... _thing._ It looked like a human cadaver, but with the utmost disgust, he knew what it was. Who it was.

Casting his gaze around wildly to find something he could use to escape, Harry's eyes fell on the very tombstone he was tied to. There, engraved in the white marble, were the words "Tom Riddle Sr."

He was on the grave of Voldemort's father. This was obviously no coincidence, and he could only wait in trepidation for events to unfold. Harry recoiled when Wormtail pointed his wand at him again, but realized it was aimed at the ground below his feet. A slim bone, pure white, poked out of the the ground, rotating slowly in the air. It was levitated all the way to the cauldron, where Wormtail dropped it in with a muffled splash. Harry's scar pulsed with pain, and the edges of his vision seemed to blur slightly.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew you son!" chanted the small man.

He lifted a knife with his right hand, and poised it over his left. His whimper of a voice stuttered this time, "F-flesh of the s-servant, willingly given, you will revive your master." He closed his eyes at the same time Harry did, but that did nothing for the pain. Wormtail screamed as he cut off his left hand, and it fell into the pot with a much louder sound. The potion changed from clear to blood red, and the ache in Harry's head doubled in intensity, and for a split second the colors in his eyes ran.

Still crying softly, Wormtail shuffled towards Harry, who recoiled from him. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe." The knife flashed out once more, digging into Harry's shoulder. Before he knew it, Wormtail was already back at the cauldron, shaking the knife over it.

As the first drop of Harry's blood hit the potion, it began to roil and heave, turning midnight black. Harry screamed in pain, it felt as though his head _had _to have split open along the lines of his scar. Suddenly he could see nothing but black, with dull splashes of red. Slowly, the world came back into focus, looking even darker than before. Then as the potion finally stilled, his scar shot through with almighty agony.

A dull roaring sounded in his ears, while Wormtail squeaked in terror.

The cauldron was vaporized, the black potion melting away into air before it hit the ground. Mist curled around, making the entire thing feel even less real to Harry.

Standing in its place was a tall, slender man. His muscles were slim, but defined, and though his body was normal, his face was anything but.

The cheek bones were sharp as spear tips, the ears completely gone, small holes in the side of his head. Where a nose should be, there were only two slit like nostrils, and his eyes; much wider and thinner than normal humans', had blood red irises.

The man grinned widely, teeth abnormally pointed, and laughed a high and chilling laugh. Harry's blood ran cold, and he instantly remembered the flash of green light, his mother's desperate pleas, his father yelling for her. He remembered what he could of the events that had systematically ruined his life.

Lord Voldemort was back.

* * *

When the Dark Lord returned, an incredibly strong pulse of magical energy radiated from Little Hangleton's graveyard.

It rolled through Britain's countryside, permeating valleys and mountains, lakes and streams, woods and caves. Giants paused their tribal dances to glance in the direction it had come from. Leprechauns halted their revels, Dementors froze in air, and the centaurs raised their noble heads to look at the stars.

Deep in a forest, the leaves of an ancient and twisted tree ruffled slightly. Hidden within its confines in a hollow scarcely larger then it was, a Great Horned Owl opened its yellow eyes, blinking in a bemused manner.

It worked its way out of the large oak, looking around once more. It spread its wings as though stretching, and the wings continued to elongate, beyond the confines of the bird. Arms and legs sprouted, feathers receded, and hair grew. In a matter of seconds, where there was once a majestic bird stood what at first glance appeared to be an old man. However his shoulders were broad, his back unbent, and he looked around with startlingly blue eyes. In fact, the only sign of his age was the color of his hair, and the timeless wisdom carved on his features.

His long silver beard touched the forest floor, his pointed hat brushed the branches of many trees.

Merlin the Wizard, teacher of King Arthur, most legendary magician of all time, looked around in surprise. "Much has occurred in my absence," he said simply, and then he disappeared with a small pop.

* * *

**Author's note: What'd you think? Kinda... un-canon right? I just had to make the ending like that :)**

**Leave you hanging. Well! You know the drill. Read and review please. Thanks, - sasansan**


	7. A Powerful Night

**Disclaimer: Oops. Kinda forgot to do these. No worries though! This is all J.K.'s characters. Well, most of them. And a lot of it is her plot as well. BUT. I'm starting to bring some of my stuff. Even if it's not as good x)**

* * *

"Well well well," came the high pitched, sadistic voice of the Dark Lord. "Thank you for _dropping _by, Mr. Potter!" He eyed Cedric's body when he said the word 'dropping' and Harry's already body-consuming hate flared.

"You don't deserve to talk about him," he whispered fiercely.

Voldemort cackled, "And why don't I? Filthy halfblood," he said dismissively, kicking Diggory with a bare foot. Part of Harry's mind was disgusted at how talon-like his toe nails were. The rest of it wanted Harry to kill the wizard before him.

"_You. _You...," Harry hissed, spechless with rage.

"Oh be quiet, that's enough Potter," spat Voldemort, "I'm _tired _of listening to whining." He eyed his servant disdainfully, who was crouched over his bleeding stump of an arm and weeping softly.

"Your weakness is sickening Wormtail." The man could only cower, "Please master, please..."

Despite himself, Harry felt a _very _small twinge of pity.

"I suppose... You have been useful," pondered the Dark Lord, the shorter wizard could only nod pleadingly from his position on the ground.

"Not as useful as I might have wished but... Instrumental nonetheless. Congratulations Wormtail, I find myself pleased with you. And the Dark Lord always rewards those who are loyal." He held out his arm, and crawling forward the squat man pulled another wand from his robes, pressing it into the profferred hand.

"Ah, my wand..." Voldemort closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply, savoring his regained power. Harry thought he may be sick.

Voldemort drew his wand slowly through the air, leaving a trail of silver in its wake. He waved his wand once more, and the shiny substance coalesced into a hand, floating in the air.

Wormtail gasped in shock, the hand's fingers twiddled as though saying hello.

"Here," said the Dark Lord dispassionately; he beckoned and the hand attached itself to where Pettigrew's used to be.

"Master..." whispered Peter in awe, "How can I thank you, I, its perfect." He gazed raptly at his glittering digits.

"It is of no consequence to those who are worthy of it," said Voldemort dismissively. "And speaking of lending a hand..." he looked to Harry with wild eyes, "thank _you_, Harry _Potter_." He spat out the last name.

"For what?" questioned Harry darkly.

Voldemort laughed a high, piercingly laugh, but just as suddenly it cut off "For this," he gestured at his robed form. "For your blood." Harry's own ran cold.

"Yes Potter," he whispered "What runs through your veins runs through mines now. We're practically _related_. I could even _touch _you, if the thought of it didn't so repulse me."

"Repulse you?" said Harry through gritted teeth, his scar searing, "Isn't just _being _you enough to be repulsive?"

"_Crucio!_" he pointed at Harry, and his body contorted in agony. The pain from his head seemed to have spread through his body, so intense was his suffering. But he didn't scream, wouldn't scream. He wouldn't give Voldemort the _satisfaction_.

His vision ebbed, thoughts and faces springing unbidden into his head. Sirius. Cho. Ron and Hermione.

After what seemed liked several eternities, the torment finally ended. Harry panted, and he tasted fresh blood in his mouth. He must have bit his tongue sometime during the curse. Funny, he couldn't seem to remember.

Voldemort leered at him, no longer smiling or complacent. "Impressive Harry, very impressive, to take it in silence. Those of your... _courage_, although it should be more aptly called stupidity, are few. Your father was. So was your mother. Both of them died quickly."

Harry couldn't speak, but his eyes said it all.

"You though," continued the Dark Lord "won't be so lucky. But rest assured, they'll be witnesses for the noble end of _Harry Potter_."

"Wormtail!" he snapped at the man who was still admiring his new hand, "Over here. Now!"

Peter Pettigrew ran over quickly, "What is it master?"

"Your arm."

He lifted his left arm, knowing what Voldemort meant. The dark wizard yanked up the smaller one's robe, exposing a tattoo inked on his forearm. When he pressed his wand into it, Wormtail let out a yelp of pain.

There were a few breatheless moments when nothing happened, and then-

Sharp cracks echoed from every direction, and the sound of harsh voices reached Harry's ears.

"-e must be back! You felt your mark burn as well as I did!" he recognized the smooth tones of Draco's father, irate now.

"He can't be. But I'd like to give whoever _did _do this a piece of what I'm thinking." answered a deep, gravelly voice.

"And just what _are_ you thinking Mulciber?" said Voldemort coldly.

All of the voices stopped.

"Master?" came Lucius' voice, breaking the silence.

Voldemort ignored him, "I am disappointed, my Death Eaters." Quietly, they entered the graveyard, arranging themselves in a circle. Harry found them strangely familiar, until he remembered seeing them at the World Cup.

Each one wore black robes, with peaked hoods on. Their faces were masked by what looked like human skulls; Harry could only hope they were fake.

"Master, I'm sorry, I-" The same robed figure who had been speaking ill before threw himself at Voldemort's feet.

"Silence." said Voldemort, cutting of Mulciber's apologies.

"I've been gone for night on thirteen years, _thirteen years_. But I did not have to be. Any of you, even the most moronic, _Goyle_, could have done what _this _blubbering dimwit did." He waved his hand towards Wormtail, who flinched.

"But did you? No. Did you even _attempt_ to seek me out? You, closest of my friends, who knew that I could not die. I alone, who was invulnerable to the clutches of death."

"Master, I assure you-" began Lucius again, but Voldemort cut him off with a look that plainly said to continue would be to invite death. Gulping audibly, Malfoy ceased speaking.

"But now, I am back. I am back to finish what I started, that great cause that you committed yourselves to. But the mere fact that you are here is not proof of your loyalty to me. Those rotting in Azkaban as we speak are far more loyal than you. And my servant, stationed in Hogwarts, is perhaps the most loyal of all."

In Hogwarts. The man who was underneath it all, responsible for the deaths of Cedric and Fleur. Harry seethed quietly.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful however. This is your chance to show that you are still worthy of serving me. And it is simple my Death Eaters, oh so simple. You are here to witness, and then to spread the news of it."

"W-witness what, Master?" risked Lucius.

"Vengeance," replied Voldemort simply.

"I don't understand," came a slow, deep voice.

"You rarely understand, Goyle," replied the Dark Lord cuttingly "but think. Who would I crave vengeance for? Who sent me nearly to my demise, all those years ago?"

"H-Harry Potter?" replied Goyle after a long while.

"Yes," Voldemort smiled, although 'bared his teeth' would be a more accurate description. "Which leads me to the introduction of our guest. Harry, how are you keeping?"

For the first time, the Death Eaters noticed him. There were shouts of shock and anger, followed quickly with many hostile wands pointed in his direction. He glared back at all of them.

"No!" screamed Voldemort. "He's mine. Tonight, I'm going to really show you what should have happened. It was no _Boy Who Lived_, it was the _Mother Who Died_. It was... ancient magic. Something I could have, should have, foreseen. But no matter, it's finally time to fix that decade old mistake."

Harry's ropes were cut.

"Give him his wand!"

Wormtail walked slowly up to Harry, throwing him his wand when he was about five feet away. Not close enough for Harry to strangle. Wise man.

Harry stood as quickly as he could, while his injured leg throbbed beneath him.

"Now Harry, we're going to duel. You know how to duel, yes?"

Harry looked at him stonily.

"Mister Potter," Voldemort tutted while the Death Eaters cackled "we start with a bow. Come Harry, there _are _traditions you know." Harsh laughter echoed around the circle once more.

Standing rigidly, Harry glared at him with his wand held tight.

"_Bow _Harry," he leered, gesturing with his hand, and Harry's back bent involuntarily into a bow, which the Dark Lord returned mockingly.

"_Crucio!" _cried Voldemort, and Harry dived behind a gravestone to avoid the curse. "Not very honorable for a Gryffindor, hiding behind the remains of others," taunted the dark wizard.

Harry peeked out his head, only to draw it back quickly when a jet of purple light flew towards it, leaving a smoking crater where it hit the ground.

His heart was pounding in his chest, and his brain was working overtime to figure a way out of this. The Cup! If he could just reach it-

"Stop cowering!" Voldemort's voice cut off his thoughts. The tombstone Harry'd been taking cover behind flew out of the way. He scrambled to get up but his bad leg gave way, and he crashed to the ground once more. The Death Eaters howled with laughter, Voldemort smiled a thin lipped smile.

"I wonder, how did something as _useless _as you make it to the center of that delightful hedge maze?"

"And how did something as useless as you get people to call him _Master_?" spat back Harry. The Death Eaters instantly shut up, staring at their Lord in trepidation.

"You'll pay dearly for that Potter," whispered Voldemort, and before Harry could respond he shot a curse at him. Barely getting his shield up in time, Harry dove to the left before he got hit by the spells that followed. He was completely outmatched, even with an arsenal of more advanced spells, Harry didn't stand a chance against one of the most powerful wizards of all time. But then, it didn't matter, his parents' death had taught him that. It wasn't important that someone died, or at least, not as important as _how _someone died. And Harry intended to go like his father; fighting.

He limped, changing position, his movements obscured by the smoke created by that last attack.

"_Expelliarmus!_" yelled Harry, pointing straight at the Dark Lord. But Voldemort was quicker still, and turned to meet him, "_Avada Kedavra!_" The spells collided in midair with a glorious fusion of scarlet and emerald light. Part of Harry's brain registered, in a slightly ironic way, that the color of his spell perfectly matched his opponent's eyes, whereas the green of Voldemort's matched his own.

The black haired Gryffindor shut his, fully expecting this to be the end. Briefly, he felt at peace, he had done as job to the best of his abilities, and he could finally meet his parents, tell them how he loved them.

But impossibly, he was still there. He heard Voldemort gasp in shock and rage, the screams of the Death Eaters seemed suddenly distant, and stranger still he heard the melody of Fawkes, of phoenix song. Opening his eyes, Harry too gasped.

Where the spells had melded, there was a small glowing sphere of light, with a golden thread connecting to each wand. More threads spilled from it, into the sky and spreading in all directions, forming a dome. There were flashes from outside of the sphere, and it appeared as though the Death Eaters couldn't penetrate the glowing filaments.

Voldemort glared at Harry, his slit-like nostrils flared.

The tiny ball of light moved slightly in Harry's direction, drawing both of their glances. The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at it, and it began to creep away from him toward his opponent's wand.

Harry too focused on it, but when he saw that all he was doing was slowing it down, he redoubled his efforts and forced all of his will on it. The ball halted its procession inches from his wand, and drifted back towards Voldemort's. Harry suddenly realized that a whole new kind of duel was taking place, one that may be just as deadly as the previous one.

It passed the half way point, Voldemort looked furious. Harry's wand began shaking in his hand, more and more violently the further the ball got from it. His fingers began to ache, but his concentration never wavered.

The ball was so close now, it halted, wavering back and forth less than a foot from the Dark Lord's wand. Both of them bore down with their minds, and slowly, it began to move once more, still towards Voldemort. Harry was finding it difficult to keep a grip on his wand, but he knew that in the end it would be worth it.

With an almighty mental push, the ball entered Voldemort's wand. His blood red eyes widened in utter disbelief that the _boy _had done this, had defeated him on some level.

Something was coming out of the wand, and at first Harry thought it was the ball of light again, that Voldemort had forced it back out. But they were all in for another shock, because emerging from the wand tip, unmistakably, was the torso of Cedric Diggory. Still more of him spilled out, until a perfect representation of the other Hogwarts Champion paced the circle. His composition looked like Nearly Headless Nick, but more substantial; cloud rather than smoke.

"Hello Harry." Cedric smiled at him.

"How?" was all Harry could seem to manage.

He strived to maintain his grip on his unruly wand, lest Voldemort take advantage of his distraction. He needn't have worried, the Dark Lord too was staring at Cedric, eyes wide in what was unmistakably fear. He masked it quickly before anyone saw it, but waited just as eagerly as Harry for Cedric's explanation.

"Excellent work by the way. But I'm not really back, this is more of an... echo, I suppose you could say. This isn't me, I'm not alive, any more than her. Or him." He gestured back at the wand, and Harry's eyes widened; a plump woman he recognized as Bertha Jorkins paced the circle as well, and was soon joined by a limping, grizzled old man.

"Good job Harry!" she encouraged. "That's right, you fight 'im boy. 'E got me though." added the elderly man. Their words fell on deaf ears, because Harry suddenly realized that if the people Voldemort had killed kept coming out of his wand, why, then-

And Lily Potter's head began to emerge from the wand.

"M-Mum?" he whispered. "Harry," she replied lovingly, now formed down to the waist. Tears glistened in her insubstantial eyes, perfect replicas of Harry's.

"Mum," said Harry in disbelief, so overcome was he.

"Hold on dear, just a little longer," said Lily, her feet detaching themselves from the wand of a shellshocked Voldemort "your father's coming." She smiled at him sadly.

"Yes, good job Harry!" cheered Bertha, but the old Muggle and Cedric knew better then to interrupt this moment; they merely nodded at him.

"Son." Harry heard a heart breakingly familiar baritone voice. He looked, hardly daring to believe, but sure enough, his fathers head and broad shoulders had come out of the Dark Lord's wand, and the rest of him quickly followed.

"You've got your mother's eyes," grinned James Potter. He walked over, joining his wife, and together they strode towards Harry. He swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat. His family was here.

"And your father's hair. Of all the rotten luck..." replied Lily, and they both chuckled, even though the sound was slightly melancholy.

"We're so proud of you," whispered James into Harry's ear, "just hold on a tiny bit more. When I tell you to, break the connection. Summon the Cup, get out of here. We can protect you," he looked around as the floating forms nodded "but not for long."

"We love you Harry," said Lily tearfully, and James hugged his wife.

Voldemort looked at them furiously, his fear turned into anger. "What _are _you? Leave!"

Harry's father simply smiled at the man, "If you like. **Now!**" he roared.

Harry jerked his wand sharply, and the golden string snapped. Voldemort attempted to reach him, but the misty and already disintegrating forms rushed him. He was obscured from view, yelling out orders in his cold voice. "The boy is escaping! Get him!"

Jinxes flew in every direction, Harry ran towards Cedric's body erratically; he couldn't leave him here. He worked to keep himself upright, his leg burning beneath him.

He stumbled briefly, but picked himself up just as fast, reaching the Hufflepuff's fallen form just as Voldemort cast off the smoky forms and yelled in fury "_Potter!" _

The Dark Lord burst into view just as Harry brought out his wand "_Accio Cup!_" The gleaming Portkey zoomed towards Harry, who grabbed it out of the air deftly. He was jerked forward from the center of his stomach just as the pursuing wizards fired off several curses. The last thing he heard before he disappeared in a swirl of color, holding Cedric's body, was Voldemort give a high pitched cry of rage.

* * *

Cheers. Bright lights and the roar of the crowd. Camera flashes, loud announcements.

Harry was back at Hogwarts, crouched in front of the bleachers, a dead body in his arms.

The people kept clapping and yelling, completely oblivious to the truth, to what had happened. Then the first scream. "Oh my god! It's CEDRIC! CEDRIC'S DEAD!"

And then came the pandemonium. The noise only grew, but completely changed. No merriment, only panic, fear, anguish. The Professor's quickly ushered them into the castle, still babbling. Some figures evaded them however, running towards Harry.

"**NO!**" roared the hearty voice of Cedric's figure. Mister Diggory came running, eyes wild, "Cedric! Not Cedric!" he pushed Harry roughly out of the way, and bent to embrace his son. His wife was right behind him, sobbing onto his shoulders.

The students were quiet, many Hufflepuffs were crying, as were some in the other houses. Harry could only sit, staring numbly at Cedric's corpse. Now that the adrenaline and anger from the graveyard had worn off, all he felt was cold and empty.

The Professor's quickly ushered the students into the castle, although some managed to covertly sneak back.

He saw people running towards them in his peripherals, but he didn't bother turning. Someone hugged him tightly from behind, smelling of jasmine. Warmth blossomed back into his chest as Cho buried her head in his shoulder. Tears spilled out, trailing down his grimy face and he grabbed the hands that were folded around him.

"Harry!" Dumbledore was rushing towards him, the closest to frantic that Harry had ever seen him. "Harry what has happened here?"

"Aye, I'd like to know the same thing," growled Moody. Cornelius Fudge was with them, looking like he was having a full blown panic attack. "Whatever will the reporters say?" he moaned, "First that debacle with Black, then that Delacour girl, and now this!"

"Cornelius!" said Dumbledore loudly, "Control yourself! Now is not the time to discuss social statuses."

The minister turned a shade of magenta that Harry had only seen in the sweaters that Mrs. Weasley knitted Ron. "W-well Dumbledore, it's only natural that-"

The Headmaster cut across him, "Natural that we get _explanations_. Harry I apologize, please, what is it you have to say. I believe," he surveyed the people gathered, himself, the Minister (who was giving him a very ugly look), Moody, McGonagall, Harry and Cho, and Cedric's parents "Yes, I believe that everyone here deserves to know."

Never letting go of Cho's hand, Harry spoke softly, his dry throat stumbling over words every now and then. He started with their arrival with to the graveyard and ended in their departure. No one spoke, even Mrs. Diggory ceased her sobbing to listen to how her son had died.

"My poor boy," whispered Amos, stroking Cedric's hair.

Dumbledore gave a long and deep sigh, looking old and tired like he never did. Alastor had an odd expression on his face, McGonagall's eyes were closed as she rubbed her temples, but Fudge was looking rather incredulous. Cho simply pulled Harry closer to her, "Are you okay?" she asked him quietly.

He nodded automatically, and it wasn't entirely a lie. In her arms, he felt halfway human again.

"I need to go check on the students," said Moody in his low voice, "If anyone needs me, I'll be in my office later. Potter," he added, "I'd like to pick your brain on those ruddy Death Eaters, if you have the time." Nodding at them all, he made his way back up to the castle.

Dumbledore began to question Harry on some of the finer points, paying heavy attention to the part about their wands connecting. Nodding like this was to be expected, he then asked if Harry had known who the Death Eaters were. He began to repeat the names, until Fudge intervened with a start.

"Come now, you can't be serious Dumbledore! I mean," he snuck a nervous glance at Harry "he's _wrong_. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can't be back, he can't be."

"And why not?"

"Because he's _dead_! He _died_!" said Fudge fiercely. Cedric's mother whimpered.

"If he's back, then he obviously did not die." replied Dumbledore.

"And what do we have confirming this?" blustered Fudge.

"We have Harry, who performed in an exemplary manner tonight." said the Headmaster rather sharply.

"Yes, well," the Minister's lip curled up in a slightly derisive manner, "not much of a source if you ask me. I've been hearing funny things Albus, very funny things. Fainting everywhere, headaches, nightmares, and now apparently hallucinations."

Cho inhaled sharply in anger, but Harry held her down and prevented her from giving the Minister a well deserved crack to the face. And quite possibly a few hexes. But Merlin knows he would have liked to.

"You've been reading the Daily Prophet, haven't you Cornelius?" questioned Dumbledore softly.

"And so what if I have? News is news, Albus, and it's no different no matter _where _I get it from."

"What other explanation fits?" pleaded the Headmaster.

"Plenty do! And the one I happen to believe, the one that's most likely the truth, is that Diggory's death was an accident, and that Potter's a nutcase!" exclaimed Fudge angrily.

Thoughts of restraint left the couple's heads and Cho rose to her feet, Minister of Magic be damned, but Harry beat her to it. Cornelius Fudge reeled back, clutching his nose in shock. Blood seeped from between his fingers, and Harry's fist was still raised. "How _dare_ you," he hissed furiously, "dishonor me like that. Dishonor _him_ like that. Cedric Diggory was a great wizard, his death was no _accident_, it was murder."

Everyone but Cho looked at him, appalled. "If you don't mind Minister," she said sweetly, "I'd say you had that coming. And I would leave if I were you, those of us that know the truth have a war to prepare for."

"There will be _consequences! _This is _assault_! I'll have you all in Azkaban!" yelled Fudge, who was beside himself and trying to stem the blood flowing from his nose, which was slightly squashed.

"Really?" said Cho in a mildly surprised voice, "Because I don't think anyone saw anything, isn't that right? And whatever shall happen without witnesses..." She tutted thoughtfully. The Minister looked around to see agreement on every side. Even Cedric's parents were nodding their heads.

All the color drained from Fudge's face, leaving the once purple skin a pasty white.

"You people," he whispered, "are _insane_. I'm leaving. Now."

"I think that would be best Cornelius," said Dumbledore sadly.

Without responding, the Minister turned on his heel and marched away, threatening the air next to him. Harry chuckled, drawing his girlfriend in for a chaste kiss. "Ruddy brilliant," he murmured in her ear.

"That's Ravenclaw for you," she replied, giggling.

"I believe," said Dumbledore finally, "that that will be enough for tonight. Harry? Hospital Wing if you please." Everyone offered Cedric's parents their deepest condolences, before returning to the castle. They met Professor Sprout on the way up, who was rushing down to meet with her star pupils parents. Her eyes too, were tear filled.

"Mister Potter, Miss Chang," came McGonagall's voice as they split up.

"Yes?" asked Harry, his arm around Cho.

It was then that Gryffindor's Head of House did something that no betting man, no matter how drunk, would have put money on.

She gave them a wide smile, "Excellent straight right, 10 points to Gryffindor. And, Miss Chang, that was a superb cover up, 10 points to Ravenclaw." And with that, she bade them good night.

"Did that really just happen?" Harry asked his girlfriend, in awe.

"You know, I think it did," she replied, equally stunned.

* * *

Harry walked Cho to the Ravenclaw Common Room as soon as an indignant Madame Pomfrey patched him up. "Changelings! Really! I would have expected better sense even from someone as eccentric as our Headmaster!" she had ranted.

He walked to the Gryffindor Tower, fully intending to get some sleep, but he knew that there was still something he had to take care of. He changed directions abruptly, his feet leading to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He had to talk to Moody; there was a traitor in Hogwarts.

"Professor?" Harry knocked on the door, and almost immediately it was opened. "Ah, Potter," said the grizzled man, "Come in, come in." he beckoned, leading Harry into his office.

Having only been there once before, Harry still found the multitudes of Dark Detection tools extremely fascinating. The foeglass unnerved him though, the faceless heads swirling in its depths, while the Sneakoscope rocked gently on its point.

"So Potter," Moody sat him down, "I'll have you start off. I have something rather important to say." Harry briefly considered the wisdom of what he was about to say before rushing on.

"There's an impostor in Hogwarts. A spy, they bewitched Cedric to kill Fleur, and they enchanted the Cup." he said quickly, unable to hold it in. "I didn't get a chance to tell Dumbledore, what with all the people around and..." he shrugged helplessly.

"It just so happens," began Moody slowly, "that I have the solution to your problem. I know who the traitor is."

"Who?" gasped Harry. Why had he kept that a secret? Why were they still on the loose?

"It's me," said Mad-Eye Moody, in a calm voice, completely at odds with the insanity that came out of his mouth.

"B-but y-you can't be! You're an ex-Auror! You hate dark wizards!"

"I never said that, did I? I told you the truth; I hate a Death Eater who walked free. Those who claimed that they had no loyalty to my master, the greatest wizard of all time..." he snorted. "They didn't even search for him! I would have but... I was, held up."

_Oh please someone help_, thought Harry wildly, but even as he did he knew that no one would come. They'd all think him safe in his bed, and even when he was gone, none would think to suspect the famous Dark Wizard catcher.

"But that doesn't matter anymore," continued the clearly insane man, "because-" he cut himself off, with a retching noise.

He gasped in pain, Harry in shock. Moody's body was shifting and changing, in much the same way as the creatures that Harry had fought earlier.

His mane changed, became shorter, thicker, the color of straw. The worn features on his face rearranged, his nose became whole, and the bright and swirling eye popped out as a real one re-grew in its place. The wooden leg fell off with a clump, the real appendage coming back.

The whole thing took mere seconds.

When the transformation was done, quite a different man was before Harry. A man he recognized from the pensieve in Dumbledore's office, and a man who had supposedly been dead for the past 13 years or so.

Lounged in the chair, wand pointed at Harry, was Barty Crouch Jr. There was a magnificent leer on his face, "Continuing what I said earlier. It doesn't matter, not when I kill you. I will be given an honored place at my Master's side for singlehandedly defeating his greatest enemy. Yes, yes, I know, wizard's duel and equal rights and such, but I don't have honor. I have something better, _results_."

He drew his wand arm back, preparing to cast the deadly curse.

_Oh Merlin help me! _Harry thought angrily. There he was, just waiting to be struck down and he had no way to stop this, no way to defend himself.

There was a small and unexpected popping sound, "Somebody call?" said a new, slightly surprised voice.

A large and handsome man stood behind Harry, with a mane of silver hair that rivaled Dumbledore's. Everyone froze.

"But that's impossible." said Crouch, "You can't apparate or disapparate inside this school."

The man snorted, "Please, I predate this entire thing. Back in _my _day, this whole place was covered by an iceberg. Your rules don't apply to me."

"So who wants to talk?" he continued pleasantly, but then he saw Crouch's wand, still aimed at Harry. He frowned, "Well, we can't have that can we?" he brought out a simple wand of his own, but with just a flick of it, Barty was in a steel cage, his wand was in a glass case. The stranger had even cleaned the shabby robes that the man who pretended to be Moody wore, and all with what was seemingly a single spell.

"I suppose it's you who's doing the talking," he turned to Harry, facing him head on for the first time. From this angle, the Gryffindor suddenly recognized the newcomer.

Harry had seen this face a thousand and one times, waving at him from Chocolate Frog Cards and magical textbooks_. _This was turning out to be quite the impossible night.

"You," Harry swallowed, his mouth dry, "You're Merlin."

* * *

**Author's Note: Er... so how is it? I'm hoping it's alright... I tried to kind of stick to the canon, for the parts that needed to I mean. Read and review, I love feedback. All author's do. It's mother's milk to us. Without it, our bones don't grow. **


	8. Names Come With the Job

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. In fact, I'm not even a girl. So as such, it is quite the ludicrous idea to suggest that I own the Harry Potter Series. Well I do, but like the individual books, not the actual series and the rights to it. Erm, I own part of my plot, as it still kind of leans on parts of J.K's, and I own some of my characters too. Not much. **

* * *

"Yes, I'm Merlin. And you're Harry Potter. And that little thing over there," he gestured at the cage "Is Barty Crouch Jr."

"But I thought- you seemed like you didn't- how do you- what?" stammered Harry.

The bearded man laughed in a luxuriant baritone, "Of course I made it seem like I didn't know anything. Much more fun," he winked. "In fact, I'd wager I know more about this whole affair then even you. Like for instance, why he's still breathing. I haven't been dead, just... trapped. A lot like Voldemort," Crouch flinched at the name "but for a _much_ longer time."

"Then how do you know all of this?" challenged Harry.

"My body was bound, yes, but not my mind. I could observe, not influence. It was quite maddening actually..." His brow creased, "But look at me, jabbering on like the old man I am, I expect you want explanations?"

Harry nodded slowly, beginning to wonder if the most famous wizard in history was madder than a cracked teapot.

"That's not very nice," commented Merlin drily, "'_madder than a cracked teapot_' honestly..." Harry's eyes widened in surprise, had he heard that? Did he say it out loud?

"Of course not," answered the wizard, "you just have a distinct way of thinking, can't help from looking in your mind. Very nice girlfriend by the way, your excellent taste in girls is balanced out by her horrible taste in boys."

"You need to get out-" began Harry angrily, his cheeks red, but Merlin cut him off. "Sorry, consider me done with your head's inner workings, distractions distractions distractions."

He gave the caged man a significant look, "But yes, I know _his _story quite well, a nice refreshing piece of drama it was. He was apprehended, about thirteen years back with a group of rather nasty people. I didn't much like them, horrible dialogue, awful to watch. They all said the same things, Dark Lord this, Master that, but I'm getting away from myself."

"How _dare _you-" Crouch said angrily, but with barely a move of his wand Merlin silenced him. "What was I saying? Oh, right, apprehended. So he went to the Wizengamot and- oh! I see, you already know about that do you? Sorry, your mind invited me, couldn't resist." he apologized when Harry started to open his mouth again, for a slightly less violent rant.

"He went to Azkaban of course, but his mother- she was a lovely lady, if a bit frail and dim- convinced _that_ one's father to switch them."

"How did they manage that?" asked Harry, fascinated at tale's of other people's escapes from Azkaban.

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there. The father pulled some strings, paid people off, the normal politician business, and when they went to visit their son... They brought a rather special potion to help them switch the two."

"Polyjuice!" exclaimed Harry almost immediately.

Merlin looked deep into his eyes before chuckling at the memories he saw, "Well well well, look who's quite the trouble maker. Impressive friend though, second year was it?"

Harry simply sighed and nodded, waving at him to continue the story. The mind reading thing wasn't going to change anytime soon, and he needed to know what happened to Crouch.

"Oh all right I'll go on, but we're discussing this later. So condensed version; mother took the potion, became the son, and likewise. Father snuck them out, and hid him at home under the Imperius Curse with the House Elf as a caretaker. A few months later, his wife died at Azkaban- she was already so weak, poor lady- but she took the potion until the last. After his 'son's' funeral, he staged his wife's death at home. In hindsight, I suppose it was quite genius. Didn't work in the long run though, given enough time even the weakest mind's can cast off the Imperius Curse. This one did, at the World Cup, but fortunately the father found him again. _Un_fortunately though, Voldemort found them again soon after."

Crouch laughed hysterically from his cage, "The tables turned then, when my master came for me! My father bewitched, and I was set free!"

"I thought I silenced you," said Merlin annoyedly, he pointed his wand at Crouch once more and his cackling stopped. "Oh! Oops, sorry Crouch. Looks like the first time I just turned your tongue green."

Harry snorted with laughter, and the great wizard turned back to him, a half smile on his face.

"Yes, that's essentially what happened. He took the place of the real Moody- who I quite liked, doesn't mince words, and he's in that trunk incidentally- by using Polyjuice and came to the school. You've basically got this part as well, enchanted Cedric to egg on the Giant Squid, transformed the Cup, killed his father- Ah. So you didn't know about that did you? Nasty business it was... turned him into a bone and buried him outside of that Half Giant's Cabin. And that's how it went." finished Merlin, staring at Harry expectantly.

"That's-" "I know!" the wizard cut across him again. Harry raised his eyebrow and thought as loud as he could; _Merlin's very talkative, isn't he_.

Merlin stopped his commentary to laugh at Harry's comment.

"Don't you think we should tell Dumbledore?" he asked, taking advantage of Merlin's temporary silence.

"You know, that's a fair point," he said. "And while we're at it, I suppose we'd better call... Minerva- smart gal, she makes a lovely Animagus- Severus- he can confirm Crouch's identity, not that _I_ need it-, probably Flitwick- phenomenal dueler- and from the look of your mind, Cho, Hermione, Ron and Samantha. Because I know you'll tell them anyway."

Harry looked away guiltily, it was completely true.

"Of course it's true. I'm Merlin." He chuckled at his own antics. "Now stand back Harry, I'm gonna show you how we used to get it done! Well actually, how I used to get it done. No one else could, unfortunately. I've got high hopes for you though, you know you remind me of Arthur and awful lot." He appeared to be about to continue, but he caught wind of Harry's mutinous thoughts and decided on letting everyone know. Wise of him.

Merlin flourished his wand, conjuring a glowing blue sphere directly in front of him. He whispered rapidly into it, and it broke apart into separate spheres, each headed in a different direction. They melted through the stone walls like they weren't there, leaving a slightly glowing imprint on the rocks they entered.

He nodded approvingly at his work, "That's a useful spell. I'll have to remember that one."

"Wait, hold on," said Harry incredulously, "you just made that up?"

"Of course. That's how I did it way back when. How everyone _used _to do it. So much has changed... so much has been lost." he trailed off sadly. "It was that Inquisition that did it, coupled with all those witch burnings. Magic was underground for so long, nearly all the ancient techniques were lost. And all I could do was watch... that Nimue... wonder where she got off to. She's still around of course."

"Nimue?" questioned Harry.

"Imprisoned me, sleeping, in a tree for around a thousand years. It was quite the spirit dampener, I can tell you that, but there were some ways around it. Such as the mindcasting that I told you about."

At that moment, the door flew open, revealing an imposing Professor Dumbledore, drowsy Flitwick, irritated Snape and an extremely frazzled Professor McGonagall. They started, as you can imagine the scene before them; here they were, called by an unknown spell into a teacher's office, only to find him not there, replaced with a caged man and an impressive looking wizard.

The sound of rapid footsteps could be heard, and they were joined by a huffing and puffing Ron, Hermione and Samantha. Cho was with them as well, her breathing only slightly harder due to her Quidditch conditioning.

"Albus-" began Merlin, but the other wizard stopped him.

"Silence, intruder. What are you doing here?" Dumbledore's normally merry voice was icy and cold. His wand was pointing directly at Merlin's heart. The tension in the room cranked up another notch. Cho gave Harry an alarmed look, but he smiled reassuringly at her. The rest of his friend's were still catching their breath.

Of course, Merlin rolled his eyes. "Albus put your wand down. Minerva, Severus, Filius, Cho, Ronald, Samantha, Hermione." he nodded to each of them in turn. "I'm not here to fight you, if I were, well... It'd be finished already."

"Where is my Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore, completely ignoring him.

Harry stood up then, and walked in the middle. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, let me explain."

"Potter get out of the way!" yelled Snape. "I quite agree," concurred the severe voice of Gryffindor's Head of House.

"You don't understand," pleaded Harry, "this isn't our enemy-"

"Harry I must ask you to move!" said the Headmaster in harsh tones, never taking his eyes off the alien wizard.

"But-" Harry tried again, "_Move_!" snarled Snape, the Professor's wands were all out and aimed at Merlin, who simply stood, his bemused expression quickly fading.

"Miss Chang, no!" yelled Flitwick, but it was too late. With purposeful strides, Cho moved to Harry's side and turned to regard the Hogwarts teachers, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. She was quickly joined by Ron and Samantha, followed by a very scared Hermione. "We'll all be expelled!" she squeaked quietly.

"I think," said Cho quite coldly "that you should listen to what Harry, and this person, has to say."

"Chang you stupid child, get _out of the way_!" hissed the Slytherin Head.

"Snape shut the _bloody hell_ up!" yelled Harry, unable to control himself. Threats to himself he could stand, he put up with them daily, but _not_ to his friends, and most definitely not to Cho.

Ron's eyebrows disappeared beyond the fringe of his hairline, "Wow Harry," muttered Ron as Hermione let out an '_eep'_ of terror, "you're just a badass today."

"Yeah, a right devilish little rogue," added Samantha in an undertone.

Teeth clenched, the hook nosed man had switched his wand to Harry, who returned the favor.

"Okay, now that's quite enough," cried an irate Merlin. There was a bang and a flash of light, and suddenly none but him could move.

"This has gotten out of hand!" spoke the silver haired wizard, and no one else could contest that as they were all frozen by his spell. "I was planning to work up to this, for dramatic effect, but I'm doing it now, before someone kills someone." He gave Snape a meaningful dance.

"I am Merlin." he said simply "Look, see, if you don't recognize me," he walked forward into better lighting, the one cast by several wands. If anyone could have gasped, they would have. "And your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor was _not _Mad Eye Moody. It was this man," he waved towards the cage "who imitated his form by the use of Polyjuice Potion. Barty Crouch Junior. I'm going to take the Charm off now, so I can answer the questions I see in your minds, but if any of you so much as _point_ a wand at me, it's going right back up!"

With another flash of light, the charm was lifted. But still no one moved.

"Merlin," breathed Dumbledore. "Is it possible?" questioned Snape in the same tone, his anger towards Harry forgotten. Cho unconsciously stepped closer to him. After a moments hesistation, Samantha did the same to Ron, much to Hermione's displeasure.

Cho took Harry's hand, "But like he said," she indicated the unpleasant greasy haired man "how is this possible? I mean, you've been gone for a thousand years so shouldn't you be, well, _dead_?"

"You know, that's quite a good point," said Merlin thoughtfully, "She's a smart one, wonder why she's with you?" he asked Harry on the side, who turned red. Perhaps sensing his thoughts made Merlin backpedal, but for whatever reason he switched back to the question.

"I can't _precisely_ answer it at the moment, due to... present company. But I can tell you it was due to magic. I haven't been around because of that blasted witch Nimue. You know the story, she imprisoned me in a tree. I mean, really, a tree. Couldn't she have been a _bit_ more original? I was only able to escape when Voldemort returned," majority of the room jumped slightly at the name "the spell he did was... Brute. Powerful, but sloppy. It left loads of residual energy, went rocketing all over the place drawn to any magical sites. Enough crashed into my tree to break the bonds she set on me all those years ago. I didn't mean to reveal myself so soon, but this kid," he jerked a thumb towards Harry, "called for help."

"Which I was completely unaware of," Harry added.

"Yes, yes, but still, you called. So I came, and," Merlin shrugged, "and that's what happened."

"But then, where is Alastor?" questioned Dumbledore, while the Potions Master walked forward carefully to get a better look at Crouch.

"Oh, right! Been meaning to do that," Merlin gestured at the chest with multiple locks. One in the middle flew off, landing on the floor with a sharp crack, while the lid creaked open. The Headmaster rushed to the open crate, "Alastor!" he called down into it.

A weak cry could be heard from it in response. Flitwick quickly levitated him out and magicked his prone form onto a stretcher, which he began to tow towards the hospital wing. The veteran Auror was emaciated, his cheeks sunken and his hair unevenly cut. Even if his feeble state, he still managed to give everyone nods of thanks as he floated out of the room.

Dumbledore sent Snape to his stores for Veritaserum, just to confirm the story once and for all. Then as a pair he and McGonagall turned to Merlin, strong hope firing in their eyes.

"Now, I don't know if you know the whole story-," started Dumbledore, but Merlin stopped him before he even began, and for the first time he sounded less than cordial. "Don't begin with me Albus. I know what you do, and I know what you've done, and let's get one thing straight; _I don't like it_. I refuse to be another one of your pieces." His eyes narrowed slightly.

"You don't understand-" said the Headmaster, sounding angry, yet Merlin interrupted again. "I understand better than you think, better than you in fact." he said heatedly "I know your plans. _All_ of them. And I will not have a part in any of them. No one should."

The remaining people in the room (Harry, Cho, Ron, Samantha, Hermione, McGonagall, and Crouch in case you forgot) watched in growing trepidation as the great wizards butted heads.

Harry noticed with surprise that Merlin seemed to have two very distinct sides. One side, was the amicable, teasing, helpful side of him, but there was a line. A line that Dumbledore seemed to have crossed, and past it was a cold and calculating Merlin, with undefinable powers. It made Harry nervous; he still didn't know what to expect of either of them. Another thing that unsettled him was the reactions that Merlin seemed to incite from the other wizard, never had Harry seen him take anything with a less-than-serene response, but here he was as hot headed as the rest of them.

"You don't know _anything_!" said Dumbledore loudly, beginning to lose control. Small snatches of wind stirred in the room, several papers flapped.

"Is that so?!" roared the other wizard, if Dumbledore was angry then, why, Merlin was _furious_. Small fires began to light on the furniture, and were extinguished by ice just as fast only to flare right back up when it melted. "You may be the great protector now, but you weren't so quick to defend before!" Dumbledore's answering expression was terrible.

"Hey-" Harry tried to interject, but Cho turned his head down to look at her, shaking her head emphatically.

It was too late though, and the pair seemed to come to their senses. The wind died down, the flames disappeared entirely, leaving only scorch marks behind.

McGonagall looked at them, superbly disdainful, "Two of the wisest wizards we have, fighting each other on the brink of war? You should be ashamed of yourselves." Her nostrils flared. Dumbledore at least, had the sense to look slightly ashamed, but Merlin's face remained cold and aloof. When he spoke, the words were oddly formal, like they had been learned in court. With a jolt, Harry realized that this might indeed be the case.

"I do apologize, Minerva. Our disagreement ought not to have been forced upon the company gathered." She nodded in acceptance, though her lips were still thin.

Just then, Snape entered the room, a bottle of clear liquid in his right hand. "Headmaster, I have..." he trailed off. Any fool could sense the hostility in the room, Dumbledore was boring a hole into the wall with his gaze, and cold fury was etched in Merlin's unlined face.

"... the Veritaserum." finished the Slytherin Head quietly.

"Thank you Severus," said Dumbledore coolly after a brief silence "please, administer the potion and check over the story."

No one moved while Snape worked, but no sooner had Barty Crouch swallowed it that he began to choke and spasm. Dumbledore made to pull out his wand, but Merlin stopped him "You can't help him," he said, lips barely moving "best ask a quick question, while you have the time."

"Is his story true?!" demanded Snape through the bars. The man inside nodded rapidly, his face turning blue. The Potions Master, leaned back then, watching remorselessly as the Death Eater inside suffocated.

Harry wrapped Cho in a hug, shielding her as she pressed her eyes into his chest. The other girls turned away as well, but Ron and Harry continued to watch, expressionless, as did the rest of those gathered.

Finally the man's convulsions slowed, then stilled. His final breathe rattled out, Harry felt sick. Ron's face was vaguely green, McGonagall was rubbing her closed eyelids, Snape's face was a mixture of shock and disgust, but Merlin and Dumbledore wore similar expressions of great fatigue.

The Potions Master finally stepped forward to examine the body. "He's... dead. It looks like," he leaned in for a closer look "he had a curse on him. It only became active when it reacted with the Veritaserum. Ingenious."

And it was, although horrifying in its elegance. If the fake Professor's position became compromised, Voldemort didn't have to worry about him giving away any information. Dead men, after all, tell no tales.

"Severus," said Dumbledore tiredly "please, remove the body. If situations were different, I would attempt to use it to reason with the Minister but... that's clearly not an option." The room was silent as a tomb while the body was taken out, cage and all.

The girls finally looked after he was gone. Harry kept an arm around Cho's shoulders, while hers encircled his waist.

"Albus," said Merlin, with not a hint of his former aggression, "we need to talk. Just a talk," he added, looking at Professor McGonagall reassuringly.

"Very well," said the Headmaster gravely, "Harry, I must ask you to-"

"No." Merlin was looking at Dumbledore with a very hard look, as if this were a compromise that he wouldn't make.

"If you insist," replied Dumbledore slowly, breathing in deeply through his nose "But the rest of you-"

"I don't think so." This time it was Harry who spoke. "If I stay, they stay. I'll tell them later anyway, what's the difference between having them here?" he gestured at his friends. "Fine," said Dumbledore, even though the tone of his voice hinted that it was a very far distance from 'fine.' Merlin however was looking at Harry with a hint of pride in his clear eyes.

"Oh don't worry," said Merlin dismissively, "they won't tell. Or else," he smiled a dangerous sort of smile, and everyone in the room was suddenly quite nervous.

"Then what is it you wish to talk about?" the Headmaster asked Merlin stiffly, turning away from the group of adolescents. Cocking a silver eyebrow, he replied "Me. And you. And the war."

"First of all," began Merlin, "is that I won't be much help to you. There is only a limited amount I can do."

"But you're _Merlin_." said McGonagall incredulously, "Surely you could defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and quite easily I might add!"

"Your confidence in me is flattering," he replied with a slightly sarcastic edge, "but nothing can be done." His tone softened "You see, never was I an open combatant- with the exception of Nimue, who I first fought long before I enchanted myself. This spell grants me immortality," gasps echoed around the room "but there are things I've needed to sacrifice. All spells require something, energy, magic, or in my case, obedience. I have always been- and will continue to be- the guide and teacher. But I can not battle in open combat, I must influence from the sidelines. Perhaps a little help here and there may be given, but it's up to everyone else to carry out the deeds. The only area where I am unbridled is during my instruction of others. Over the ages, many myths and fables have sprung up around it. My personal favorite began in Greece, and they still tell it to this day. They know me as Chiron, teacher of heroes."

Harry had no idea who that was, but everyone else looked thunderstruck. It sucked living with Muggles.

Merlin chuckled, "I see you don't know what that means." Harry looked away, abashed. "Maybe this will help Harry. In the days of Babylon, I was known by many names. The most common one is 'God.' Because after all, I was advisor to Jesus. Muhammad. Moses. And many after them."

This time he got it. _Bloody hell_.

"What exactly are you saying?" asked McGonagall, as though unable to believe it.

"What I'm saying is," he winked, "I'm your new teacher."

* * *

**Author's Note- Well. That Chapter turned out... quite strange. I took one of my reader's advice, and eliminated Merlin as a super character. I'm actually interested as to where this is going. I didn't even have this idea to begin with, it just kind of... Well here it is. I'm sorry I didn't get to bring in Sirius, or Cho's family. I'll maybe do that in Chapter 10? or 9. Depending how much I put in 9. Of course there's still a few details to work out... Not the least of which what I'm going to do with Merlin, who I'm going to have him teach. He'll probably teach the Order, along with Harry guys. But I'll work it out, don't worry. Thanks for reading, leave an ego-booster! (review) And don't flame, please. _Politely critique._**


	9. Aftermath, pt 1

**Diclaimer: Hi there. Now I know you don't read the disclaimer. Because I don't read the disclaimer. And I wrote this story because it's what I wanted to read in a HarryCho story. Therefore, if you're reading this, then it stands to reason that we think vaguely the same! Which means you too will probably skip this. Well then. It's quite pointless to write this. But I am DEDICATED. Ha. Haha. Funny. So yeah. I own most of my plot, some of my characters, but most definitely all of their actions. The rest? J.K. Rowling. Damn her. I'M JUST KIDDING.**

* * *

When they looked back on them, the days that led up to the end of term seemed abnormally short.

_Harry_:

But Harry had learned long ago that 'a few short days' could change your life.

Dumbledore recounted everything that transpired during night of the Final Task on the day that followed. Of course, everything except Merlin's reappearance, which he had requested remain secret. As well as the school appeared to take it, the faces that Harry'd watched during the announcement were skeptical, to say in the least. He took pleasure in the sour expressions of Malfoy and his cronies, however.

The castle's mutterings towards Harry, which had somewhat lessened over the past few months, were back and with a vengeance. He couldn't even leave his dormitory with being the subject of accusing glares and awkward questions.

When he and Cho sat next to each other at lunch on the day after, the jealous whispers that had all but disappeared were back. Hogwarts' male population seemed convinced that a break up was inevitable now that Harry had apparently shown '_substantial amounts of overall instability_' as quoted from Rita Skeeter's article on the Tournament's conclusion.

Cho had taken it quite well, thought Harry. She'd responded by snogging the lips off his face for a full ten seconds the moment they sat down, before a thin-lipped (pardon the pun) McGonagall split them apart.

Both of them wore extremely satisfied smirks that made both Ron and Samantha nauseated. Even Hermione averted her eyes when Cho had speared her hand into Harry's messy locks. Not that either of them minded. On the contrary, Cho seemed to enjoy proving everyone wrong. Although, she confided in Harry later, it was partly because he was a great snogger.

His head had swelled up to somewhere along the size of a large hot-air balloon, when she followed up by saying there was food stuck to his sleeve. _Pop!_ went his head.

She giggled at his sudden change of expression, and let out a peal of laughter when he checked his robes to find them spotless. Damn those Ravenclaws. And damn his transparent expressions.

But, he reflected after a 5 minute make out session, she'd more than made it up to him.

In fact, aside from half the school thinking he was mad, the only cloud blocking his sunlight was Cedric's death. Even if this wasn't so much a cloud as a storm system. The worst part by far was when he'd met the late Champion's parents earlier in the day.

Cedric's father, who Harry remembered as a loud and boisterous man, spoke in a quiet voice that constantly broke. His wife cried the entire time Harry told how Cedric had died. "Such a brave boy," she'd weeped from her husband's shoulder.

They had elected to have a quiet and private funeral, for family and friends instead of the public memorial that was Fleur's. Harry privately thought that it suited both of the Champion's personality. Fleur had lived in the spotlight, but Cedric had been much more reserved.

The cool tones that Mister Diggory spoke to him in told him quite plainly that some portion of him still blamed Harry for his son's demise. He still refused Harry's offer of the Triwizard gold though, saying 'No, you won it fair and square boy.' Mrs. Diggory agreed with a much kinder 'Of course not dear, we couldn't. It's yours to keep.'

In contrast to her husband, Mrs. Diggory couldn't have been more grateful to Harry. She must have told him six or seven times just how thankful she was that he'd brought back Cedric's body, although her words would always stumble over her son's name. Her transparent sincerity only made Harry feel guiltier, even though he had long ago been forced to accept that he couldn't blame himself.

Fleur's death had done that for him, and it was a hard but necessary lesson for him to learn. Especially since he had resolved to oppose Voldemort at every turn, Harry could very well find himself facing many deaths before the deed was done.

However, knowing who was responsible made it easier for him. It afforded him a sense of closure, now that he had someone to blame. Every tear shed over the Dark Lord's victims only increased the fire in Harry's heart to put a stop to it.

It never burned hotter than on the night following the Hufflepuff's death. Dumbledore had called the students to attention before they could gorge themselves, looking unusually grave. The same look he had when he'd told them the story of Cedric's or Fleur's demise.

"Students. Faculty. Esteemed guests. I would like to speak to you briefly about unpleasant things during what should be a pleasant time. I am talking of course about the untimely departures of Miss Fleur Delacour and a Mister Cedric Diggory.

"As all of you know, and as I hope all of you believe, they were victims of a terrible plot. A plot which has succeeded, in bringing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named back to corporeal form. It is only through the acts of great courage and valor displayed by a person that we know of this. The person I mention is, as you all know, Harry Potter." Heads turned to look at him, all with different expressions; Disbelief, hostility, confusion, but with some, acceptance.

Dumbledore began to talk again, recapturing the Great Hall's attention. "The ministry, and those who run it, do not wish me to tell you this. They happen to be of the opinion that this is all, and I quote, 'A cock-and-bull story.'" Several girls gasped, the guys snickered. "The Daily Prophet is, of course, aiding the Ministry heavily. It is quite possible that your parents will not want you to attend this school anymore. And I happen to know for a fact that the Ministry is going to cast me into the part of 'senile old fool,' just like they are attempting to make Harry into 'the deluded, attention seeking boy.' Considering the fact that I remember all of your names, and that Mister Potter is more modest than even myself, I don't think it's the right time for that one." His eyes regained a bit of their old twinkle "All I ask is that you keep an open mind and an open heart until you know all of the facts. In my admittedly long life, I've noticed that it's best to judge- if one must judge at all- after they know both sides of the story.

"Some of you may also notice that our Defense professor is not present today. I say 'Defense professor' and not 'Alastor Moody' because the events of last night have revealed that Alastor Moody has never, in fact, taught here. Instead an impostor took his place, with the use of Polyjuice Potion. It was he who enchanted the Triwizard Cup, and he who bewitched Cedric Diggory into inciting the Giant Squid to take the life of our beloved Fleur. And so it is he, and through him, Voldemort," the Hall flinched "who is responsible for their deaths.

"Now," and his face became even more downcast, "please, join me in a moment of silence for our fallen Champions." With a wave of his wand, the lights dimmed, the banners blackened. "Remember Fleur Delacour, of great beauty and skill. Remember Cedric Diggory, embodiment of Hufflepuff; possessed of loyalty and perseverance. Remember them in the times that will follow, because mark my words they will be dark and difficult. And remember yourselves, and stay true to it."

Silence reigned for more than half a minute, and most Hufflepuffs wore somber expressions, for Cedric was well known and well liked. Harry found himself in the unusual position of being both happy that he hadn't known Cedric well, and sad that he hadn't. The Beauxbatons students were expressionless, although their eyes tightened _very_ slightly every time Fleur's name was mentioned. They had been well trained to hide their pain.

But finally, after the moments of quiet remembrance, the Hall brightened and the banners' colors were returned to normal.

And even though the food was made exactly the same, it's taste was slightly bitter to Harry's tongue.

* * *

_Cho_:

Cho sat in her common room, glaring at the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. She seethed quietly, that _stupid_ woman, what right did she have to say those things about Harry? _Her_ Harry? Really, how could she even justify it? Someone's life and the fate of the Wizarding World over a few extra papers sold?

She sighed quietly, if only there was something she could do for him, why- her thoughts halted when a new idea popped into her mind. Of _course_! She grinned in a slightly evil way. She _could_ do something. Not directly perhaps, but her father... Her grin widened further, _her father_.

"Cho?" said Samantha from a neighboring armchair, her voice slightly nervous voice "You know I don't like when you get that look. Remember the last time?

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Cho innocently.

"Right," said Sam in a dry, sarcastic voice, "and I'm the world's largest stinkworm."

"Aren't you?" Cho cocked an eyebrow.

"What I _meant_," continued Sam, in a voice of forced calm "was that just because you were never caught..."

"That is a horrible accusation and I demand you retract it immediately." responded Cho properly. She tried and failed to maintain a straight face, while her friend gave her a look of deep disgust.

"Please. _Everyone _knows you did it. Selena Fawcett looked like she was wearing a trash can on her head for the better part of a week. You jinxed her hair into a magnet."

Cho giggled at the memory, but sobered when her eyes fell on the paper again. "Blasted Skeeter woman," she muttered under her breathe.

Understanding came over her best friend's face, followed by an anger that rivaled her own. Sam hated Rita Skeeter with a passion, she'd once published an article about what a waste of time the Committee of Experimental Charms was. Her father happened to be the Head.

"Oh, never mind Cho, get that smile back on. That lady needs to _go_. Off a cliff, preferably. You have a plan?"

Cho nodded, while Sam mentally tabulated a list of things that Rita needed to go off of.

"Great," said the blonde haired girl, "what is it?"

"Daddy," replied Cho simply, but that seemingly normal statement was enough for Samantha. She grinned wickedly, "Oh you _are_ bad."

"I know," smirked Cho, "I know."

"Yes," mused her best friend, "but does Harry? Actually, I take that back. A better questions is _how well_ does he know it." She winked in a suggestive manner.

"Oh shut it," muttered Cho. She blushed a deep red, and hit Sam lightly.

"Really though," said her best friend earnestly, "How is he? Not in bed obviously, or are you-? Okay okay," she backed up hurriedly as she eyed Cho's hand, poised to hit her again. "Snogging I meant. Is he... orally gifted? Natural tongue twirler?"

The asian girl reddened further, and looked away, biting her lip.

"Oh Merlin," said Sam, "he's horrible isn't he? A lip-cripple?"

Briefly debating the wisdom of what she was about to do, Cho shook her head. "_No_," gasped Sam quietly, "then he's great isn't he? Incredible? Freaking _magical_?"

And Cho couldn't help it, she grinned so wide her face threatened to split in two. "Ahhh!" her friend screamed quietly "that is _not fair_. Cho Chang, beautiful Prefect, Ravenclaw Seeker, with a _bloody gorgeous Snogmaster boyfriend_. Where is _my _break?" she finished with a slight growl.

But Cho was ready for this one; she'd seen _that_ particular rant coming from a mile away. "Ron Weasley," she said, and Sam stopped talking and turned crimson.

"R-ron? What does he have to do with any of this?" she tried to blow it off.

Raising her eyebrows, Cho said "Don't play dumb with me, it doesn't suit a Ravenclaw. But don't worry, I'm sure he fancies you as well. Harry agrees with me."

"You _told Harry?!_" she nearly cracked the glass.

Thinking fast, Cho decided the best solution would be to avoid this entire argument before it turned into the mess it was quickly headed for. "Harry would have found out eventually," she said, on the defensive now, "and I, will talk to you later! I need to send an owl remember? Daddy's waiting."

Sam tried to grab at her, but Cho twisted deftly out of the way, "Don't think you're getting out of this! You come _right back_ after you're done Cho Chang!"

But she was already walking away with her inky black hair swaying in step, pretending not to hear. Besides, she _did_ have a female reporter to take care of, and the sooner, the better.

* * *

_Lei Chang_:

The door to the Wizengamot's oldest courtroom closed with a satisfying _bang!_

Lei strode down the hallway, not bothering to weave between the bustling crowd. They moved of their own accord as soon as they recognized him, mumbling feeble greetings. Dressed in plain black robes, he was nonetheless one of the most powerful wizards within the Ministry, and indeed the world.

His story was legend. As a prerequisite for graduations, all Aurors were required to have an elective, an assignment that they gave themselves to boost the status of the Wizarding Community. Most wizards chose to make small arrests, maybe throw a fundraiser, but then, Lei Chang was not most wizards.

Months from his wedding day, he had disappeared, relocated himself to China and immersed himself in the shadiest places he could find. It took him a little over a week, but finally, in the back alley's of Gangzhou, he had his first breakthrough.

He was inducted into a small branch of the Wizarding World's mob equivalents, run by the man called Hammerhead.

Within 3 weeks, Lei had replaced him, and within a handful of months, he had worked his way up to the biggest fish.

Using his persuasive reasoning and strong presence, that large Eurasian man cut through the magical Underworld, getting right up with the leader of China's largest triad. Known only as 'the Emperor' he controlled 90 percent of illegal dragon trade in the region, and his partnership with the infamous Praying Mantis, distributor of all known (and a few unknown) types of poisonous potions ingredients, had put Ministry's worldwide into a sticky situation.

Move against them, and a force larger than any _six_ branches of Auror's would strike back. It had been attempted before, but concluded in the silent but brutal defeat of Mongolian's magical law enforcement. They still hadn't recovered.

The UK, USA, and Japan were preparing to use the information funneled back by Lei in order to coordinate a crippling strike to China's mob system, but Chang was quicker still.

He used his influence with the the Emperor to bring together all the big crime lords for a 'proposal they couldn't refuse.' No sooner had the last of them entered the conference room, hidden in the heart of a mountain, when Lei broke the chamber's magical bonds and brought a thousand tons of rock down on top of their heads.

Hundreds of Aurors stormed known Mob hideouts the following day, only to find the gathered wizards in complete disarray. Without proper leadership, they were easily subdued and contained. Six months work, thousands of known dark wizards contained; 20 year old Lei Chang was a hero.

And here he was, two and a half decades later, heading the International Council of Aurors.

Of course, none of the adoring press clippings described the _real_ struggle. What had happened when he got home. Why? Well, because he had missed his wedding date.

Emiko Yamamoto, fiance to Lei Chang, struck fear into his heart when he apparated back to the flat they shared.

"Honey?" he had asked tentatively. The ferocity unleashed by that word was similar to the intensity of a Category 5 Hurricane. If hurricanes could rain tigers.

After a brief moment of rapidly dodging and deflecting hexes, he managed to gabble out several apologies. She glared at him for a second, then rushed back into his arms. Emiko brought her face up to his ear, and he waited for whatever congratulations she had for him. Instead, she'd said "Six months? Darling, I could have done it in four."

He chuckled deeply; that's why he loved her.

And now, years later, they had two strapping sons, and a beautiful daughter, who, if his sources were correct, had been seeing Harry Potter for the past half year.

Lei grinned silently to himself, the Changs had always done well. His eldest was married to lead singer of The Unicorn Horns, and his second was engaged to the Team Captain of the Hollyhead Harpies. He himself had married the daughter of Japan's Magical Ambassador. Not that they did it on purpose, on the contrary, blood and status mattered as much to them as it did to the Weasleys.

They simply had the prodigious luck in happening to find their soul mates in the rich, famous, and powerful. Just like themselves.

He reached his spacious office, larger than even the Minister's and sank into a cushioned armchair with a tired sigh. It had been a long day, one of the Minister's private guards had attempted to assassinate their charge. Lei had been present at the trial, as he always attempted to be there whenever one of his men were involved.

The delusional Auror lost his case of course, and was subjected to the Dementors' Kiss on the spot. Lei forced himself to watch; this was the consequences of incorrect guidance.

Large, cloaked figures glided past him on their way out, bearing the blank faced man between them. They chilled him as they swept by, but he had long ago trained his mind to resist their pull of despair.

Lei looked to his desk, and was surprised to find a letter on it. Only letters from friends and family reached him, after all, one grew tired of work memos and death threats.

His daughter's elegant scrawl graced the parchment, and he allowed himself a brief smile before opening it. It was brief with slightly harried handwriting, and almost completely to the point.

_Dear Daddy,_

_ I miss you so much! How's work? I hope it's not too hard, you don't want to get sick now._

Lei stopped reading for a moment to frown. I miss you? Don't work so hard? _She must want something_ he decided. His suspicions were confirmed when he continued reading.

_But I need you to do me a favor. Have you seen the Daily Prophet yet, the one by Skeeter? It's absolutely _horrid_ and I need to do something about it. Naturally, I owled you._

He smiled wryly; just like her mother. Lei was surprised though, and unpleasantly so, the Prophet had never dared to run negative articles even _close_ to the subject of his family before. Truth be told, the Prophet tried to avoid the Changs as much as possible. They had resources more vast than the Atlantic, and even a small side comment from one had been known to catapult- or destroy- a career.

_This isn't just for me though. It's for Sam too, remember that article on her father? And it's for Harry, he's under enough pressure as it is. So don't you be selfish now! Whatever you decide to do, I hope it's something good, because that woman needs to be taught a lesson. Samantha wanted me to tell you that it would be perfectly alright with her if you just pushed Skeeter off a cliff. And I have to say, I think she has an excellent point. I'll see you soon, I can't believe it's the end of my fifth year already! Love, Cho_

It took him thirty seconds before the rough outline of his plan appeared. It would be a near thing, but if correctly done Rita's career would be ruined. That alone would stop the Daily Prophet from writing any more stories concerning his daughter, or her boyfriend. The Daily Prophet may be big in magical Europe, but the Changs were big in the magical _World_.

He drafted a quick letter to two of his most trusted and trained bodyguards. The eagle owl flew quickly out of the window. 15 minutes later, and his men were there.

Lei had met them while traveling in China, shortly after he had taken out their mob. He'd been in a rather sticky situation with some gangsters who'd avoided the Aurors, and they were angry with him, for obvious reasons. All seemed lost when they had disarmed him, but their vicious side had, ironically, saved him.

Instead of killing him immediately, they began to beat Lei against a wall when two wizards had stolen into the alley way. At first, Lei despaired when they sheathed their drawn wands, but he quickly realized that they themselves were so much more deadly than any spell. In a brief demonstration of controlled ferocity, they left three men dead and the other five severely wounded.

The two been raised in a magical monastery, where wizards were brought up to make both their wands and their bodies deadly weapons. Fu and Long had been some of the top students, and elected to take Lei into their school.

After a few months, he'd become quite proficient at self defense, but still wasn't close to matching their blinding speed and pinpoint accuracy.

Rural China was devoid of opportunity, even for those who'd spent their entire life training to become deadly as swords. So when he'd left, they decided to come with him. Over the years, they had become among his most steadfast friends and protectors.

Fu was a large and broad man, 6 feet tall and 350 pounds of solid muscle. He was a master of Tiger style Kung Fu, and could dent metal plates without batting an eyelid.

Long stood slightly taller, but his body was more compact; steel rather than rock. His forte was Dragon style Kung Fu, and his fighting skills were so perfected that he remained unmatched, even by Fu. Just when Fu would think he'd have him, Long would hit him with a perfectly placed punch, or throw a strike so fast that it hissed through the air. Fu would buckle in exactly the place that Long wanted, and with a flurry of moves the Tiger style master would be locked in an unbreakable hold, or lying unconscious on the ground.

"Lei," said Long warmly as he stepped out of the fireplace, clapping him on the shoulder with a calloused hand. Fu simply nodded as he brushed a bit of spare ash off of his robes.

"I'd like you to accompany me to Hogwarts," said Lei briskly, and the other two Chinese men inclined their heads. "What for?" grated Fu, in his low and scratchy voice.

"There is business of a... _sensitive_ nature that may need to take place. And it would be a great comfort to me if you were there with me to help and oversee." said Lei, choosing his words carefully. Decades of friendship told him that if he phrased this question wrong, made it seem as though they were merely there to be physically imposing, then they would refuse. Politely. And if he continued to insist, less than politely.

"What is this business you wish us to be present for?" asked Long. Questions, Lei breathed out in silent relief, questions meant they were going to accept.

"There is a woman by the name of Rita Skeeter, who has been slandering the names of many prestigious wizards. And her latest story has brought her dangerously close to the Changs. If she begins to investigate, begins to uncover our secrets," he shrugged, "then I will have no choice but to kill her. And I'd rather not."

"When do we leave?" growled Fu, always to the point.

Lei grinned, and it bore an eerie resemblance to his daughter's, "Now."

* * *

Harry took a moment to mentally prepare himself before walking through the Great Hall's doors for breakfast. But even then, no amount of fortitude could have helped him in the events to follow.

The moment he pushed back the large wooden door, he found himself immersed in a sea of voices and flashing lights. Reporter after reporter pushed and shoved, trying to make themselves heard and answered.

"Mister Potter! Is it true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is-"

"Harry! Over here Harry! What is your opinion on the articles being-"

"Potter, do you still cry over-"

"What is the state of relations between you and Miss-"

"Why are you flying a Firebolt? Is there an endorsement-"

"_ENOUGH!" _boomed a powerful and foreign voice. The mob of people pulsed back from Harry, scrambling over each other to get away from the commanding yell.

A tall and handsome man, with prominent cheekbones and a strong jaw sat next to Dumbledore on the Head Table. He was good looking, and appeared to be in his early forties, with shorn salt and pepper hair. His almond shaped eyes- which Harry found strangely familiar- were bordered by laugh lines, but his lips were set in a grim expression. A thin white scar crossed from his right cheek to his jawline.

"No, do not leave this hall!" the man commanded once more. The line of reporters froze, and did a slow about face.

He paced back and forth in front of them, flanked by two dangerous looking Chinese men. "I believe our agreement was _observation only_. And the last time I checked, observation was _silent_. As silent as you are now."

And indeed, not a single one of them seemed to even breathe, intense fear and discomfort covered their faces. Harry allowed himself a small, but smug grin. His eyes sought Cho's, searching the tables of stunned students. Finally, near the middle of the Ravenclaw table, he saw her seated next to Sam. But instead of the satisfaction he felt, her face was both nervous and apprehensive. She attempted to smile at Harry, but she kept looking back to the large Eurasian man, and unease would once again flit across her face.

Her face. Wait a minute... No, it couldn't be.

He looked towards the large man who'd so cowed the reporters. Then back to Cho again. The man. Cho. The man. Cho.

Half a dozen times in several seconds, each glance only further confirming what he saw.

Harry gulped nervously, his face suddenly felt very hot, and his stomach very cold; it appeared as though he had found Cho's father.

* * *

**Author's Note: This was a hard chapter to write... I'm pretty sure the next one will be a lot easier though. And quicker, sorry about the late update. I was busy :P someone from Rock Steady Crew in New York came down to Hawaii yesterday, and we took a bboying class from him. Phenomenal. Next chapter will be the last few days of the term, mostly HarryCho, as well as Lei's solution for Rita Skeeter. I might slip in a bit about Merlin at the ending of the next chapter as well. The chapter after that will start out Harry's fifth year. Thank's for sticking with me! Leave a review.**

**OH! And i'd like to give credit to Jonathan Stone. He's where I got the idea for, as well as the name's, of Cho's father's bodyguards. It's in his series '_The 5 Ancestors'_ which is really good, by the way.**


	10. Aftermath, pt 2

**Disclaimer: Um... Yeah. Same drill. I'm not JK Rowling. Unfortunately.**

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Lei felt a brief moment of distaste while he surveyed the reporters.

He remembered the brief days where he would have the lot of them strung up by their ankles for the rest of the week, without any food or water. But then, this wasn't China. And these weren't blood thirsty gangsters he was trying to impress. It was a school, and they were students, with one of them being his daughter. He forced his mind away from the grim thoughts of his past.

With a more amused part of his brain, he noticed that Harry appeared to be double taking between him and Cho, alarm crossing his features. Hm, had he already figured out their relation to each other? Bright boy.

Promising himself to reexamine them later, Lei switched his mind from these fascinating insights and back to the task at hand. His irritation with the news groups flared again.

He took a deep breathe in and let it out slowly. Fu and Long were expressionless, both of their hard arms crossed.

Lei began to step slowly "Gentleman? And lady," he inclined his head to Rita Skeeter who curtsied "let's take a walk." He nodded to Dumbledore, winked at his daughter, and clapped a shocked Harry on the shoulder before he exited the dining hall.

The reporters slowly shuffled out after him, a sheen of sweat already bright on their faces, leaving the students to whisper excitedly as to their fates.

Lei continued to walk until he reached the entrance hall, never turning around. To the casual observer, it was as though he were merely taking a stroll about the castle. With each step, the journalist's stomachs dropped a little lower, their breathing became just a little bit harder. But Skeeter strode along the halls just as effortlessly as the Head Auror and his body guards.

He spun around abruptly, and several reporters jumped. A pudgy man sank to the floor in a dead faint.

When Lei spoke, his tones were steel and ice "You broke a promise. Had you been on contract, I'd have you halfway to court by now. I trust you all know the meaning of a contract? Such as the one that, presently, keeps you all in business?"

There were rapid nods.

"Good. Then let me impress upon you how vital it is that you obey the orders of your superiors."

"Excuse me," interjected Rita Skeeter, an insolent look on her face "but I don't believe you are my superior. Completely different jobs you see; you Head the International Council of Aurors, while I am a journalist, of the highest caliber. And I don't believe your jurisdiction extends to the Daily Prophet, which-" "_Which I very nearly own_." Lei finished for her in biting tones.

Skeeter paled considerably, but her expression remained the same. "Yes, ah, but, very nearly own, you see-"

"When I say 'very nearly own' I mean, that should I wish to shut down the Prophet, I could." said Lei, not letting her finish. This was where he needed to tread carefully, a single misplaced word could leave them with material to use in filing a lawsuits against him, on the grounds that he was threatening their jobs and workplace. Which he, quite honestly, was.

She bristled, "And what is that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me Mister Chang?" Her hand disappeared into her bag, ready to pull out that infernal green quill.

"You will never hear me say that I am threatening you." He said, straining his voice on the last four words. The plan was brilliant in its simplicity, because he did say that he wasn't threatening them, although his tones told a different, and altogether truer, story. But intonation as evidence would never hold up and court, and Skeeter knew it.

Her already pallid complexion flushed completely, and she stepped back, muttering in a quiet voice. Long and Fu cracked their knuckles menacingly. The line of reporters took another step back.

"Now let me tell you what is going to happen." said Lei in certain terms, "The first thing is that you are going to publish a full retraction on all of your negative stories centered around the Triwizard Tournament. I expect to find a written apology from each and every one of you somewhere in that article as well." There were several outraged gasps, although no one protested. Wise of them; Fu was getting irritated. And when Fu got irritated, people generally got hurt.

"Furthermore, you will take a stance that is supportive to Harry, as well as Albus Dumbledore."

"But sir!" one of the reporters, a man with a slick mustache, couldn't help speaking out "The Minister's told us that the Potter boy is lying! And to be frank sir, this is the Minister we're talking about, he's unlikely to be saying anything but the truth. Why rile up the Wizarding Community over nothing? Especially when there's no solid evidence?"

He resisted rolling his eyes with great difficulty; these people held far too much trust in their government. Any system, no matter how sound it appeared to be, had some level of corruption. Lei knew, he'd seen his fair share, and out of those he'd taken down quite a few of them.

_Because he's back_! Lei wanted to yell, but he held himself in thick restraint; it would do no good if they thought him to be as mad as they thought Albus and Potter to be. "Because it's better for the Wizarding Community to be scared and ready, rather than happy and ignorant." he said instead, his voice calm.

"But what if-" the same man tried to protest again.

"What is my motto? The motto of all Aurors." Lei cut across him abruptly.

"_Vigilo Vestri Tergum_," several of the less obstinate journalists mumbled while the man who had spoken shot them a betrayed glance. A slightly thicker one yelled out "Constant Vigilance!" before being slapped on the arm by the people on either side of him.

"Exactly. And what does that mean gentlemen and lady?"

"_Watch your back_," murmured the same people.

"Glad that's taken care of, because you just answered all of your own questions. Now, my final request," Lei continued, in tones that brooked no argument "is that you submit all stories that involve Potter, to me, before publishing."

More grumbles and resistance, but Lei would not be budged. This ensured that any news about Cho, and by extension the rest of the Changs, would have to come by him first. Lei correctly reasoned that now that his daughter was involved with Harry, every article that mentioned either of them would somehow end up pairing the two together. If he had told them flat out not to report on his family, then it would have the opposite effect. Some of the reporters might even uncover events that he'd prefer to remain unpublished and unknown. He simply didn't have the free time needed to engage the mass cover up that would need to take place after that; not that he couldn't though.

"Failure to comply with the changes in your contract will result in swift," he looked pointedly at Fu and Long, "_legal action_."

Any stubborn faces in the crowd disappeared then, replaced by a barely controlled fear. Fu smiled thinly, the other winked.

"Well," said Lei, and he made his tones warm as though he were a man speaking to his favorite nephew. "I'm glad we had that talk, and I hope that cleared up any questions you had. Good day, and don't dawdle on your way out," he finished, a clear dismissal.

The wizards he had gathered all but ran out of the room, and after a few minutes he heard the entrance to Hogwarts being hurriedly pulled open.

The large Eurasian man strode back to breakfast, hiding his grin of satisfaction while the two bodyguards padded silently at his side. It'd gone perfectly, and now he had a hold on the papers that they wouldn't dare break, for fear of the consequences. And due to a small loophole, they couldn't do a single thing about it.

"Masterfully handled sir," said Long, and Fu nodded in approval. The babble of conversation started to wash over them once more as they neared the rest of the school.

The great wooden door leading to the Great Hall was thrown wide, and Lei Chang sauntered through it, his mood much higher than when he had left 10 minutes ago. Several people jumped when the door cracked against the wall.

"Unfortunately, our dear friends left, had some business to attend to. What'd I miss?" Lei boomed as people craned their necks to look at him once more.

* * *

The minute Lei had left, Harry'd made a beeline straight for Cho, hiding his sudden and irrational fear beneath a calm mask. She took his hand before he even sat down, seeing through him in an instant.

"Was that, er, your father?" he asked after he took his seat. She nodded her head sympathetically, cutting his last thread of hope.

"Oh. He's, well, he's..." _He scares the bloody hell out of me_! is what Harry wanted to say, but he held himself in check, remembering how calmly she'd taken his news of Sirius.

"Scary? Terrifying? Intimidating?" Cho asked, slightly amused. Sam grunted in affirmation while she shoveled impressive amounts of food into an already full mouth. He nodded in response, praying that she'd tell him not to worry, that he was a shop owner or a gardener. Of course, due to the look of him and the two men with him, those options were equally unlikely. He decided to ask anyway, and at her answer, wished he hadn't.

A harmless job? No such luck.

"He's uh," she said uncomfortably, "he's the Head of... The International Council of Aurors?" she finished it like a question.

_Oh bloody hell_! thought Harry. When would he catch a break? One of her older brothers was a professional Beater, the other a dark wizard catcher, and to top it off, her father ran the whole bloody thing!

What was her mother? A trained assassin? Harry wouldn't have been surprised.

She watched his wordless response with trepidation, dearly hoping this wouldn't scare him away from her. But he only gathered her up in a hug when he saw her worried look. Cho's heart swelled; Harry had just learned her father was one of the most dangerous wizards on the planet, and he was comforting her? Clearly, there was something wrong here. Or, perhaps, something very right.

Cho gently pried herself off him, "Don't worry Harry," she smoothed his hair back soothingly, messing it up even more "Daddy understands. He's known for a long time, if he didn't approve he would have done something by now. And he must like you. He kind of said hi to you on his way out, didn't he?"

Harry raised an eyebrow; that pat on the shoulder had nearly knocked him down. Although, he supposed that she did have a point. For one, he was still breathing, and after all, her father had taken care of all those reporters. He felt a stab of vindictive pleasure at whatever punishment Rita Skeeter was being served.

"You alright?" she asked him, looking into his emerald eyes. He squeezed her hand and gave her a smile that made her heart skip a beat, "I'm fine Cho. Can I have some of your toast?"

She giggled, "Open wide." He gave her a pleading look, "Really Cho?"

Still giggling she nodded, but when his mouth stayed closed, she gave him her cutesiest pretty please look, complete with puppy dog eyes and pouting lips. Harry crumbled like a sand castle in a tsunami, and his mouth popped wide open.

She slipped in the toasted bread, and followed it with a bit of egg. Cho brushed the crumbs off his lips while he chewed, dutifully ignoring Samantha as she mimed being sick into her overflowing plate.

"Sometimes I find it difficult to be your best friend," she commented.

"I know," replied Cho distractedly, trying to maneuver some kippers into her boyfriend's mouth.

"And did you know," started Cho again, scooping more eggs onto her fork, "that I sometimes find it hard to believe you're a girl?"

Sam briefly paused in stuffing her face to throw a muffin at the others' head. Still chewing, Harry flicked out his hand and caught it. Sam turned her head away from a grinning Cho to mutter dangerously about 'stupid Seekers and their stupid reflexes.'

Just then the door was abruptly thrust open and a voice roared from it. At the exact same moment, a dark haired Ravenclaw attempted to fit a loaded pancake through her boyfriend's lips. At the sudden noise however, he jumped half a foot out of his seat, smearing the food along his right cheek. Cho's father raised a bemused eyebrow at him, while she stuffed her fist into her mouth to smother her peals of laughter.

Face red, Harry hurriedly wiped off the whipped cream and strawberries, while Lei sauntered up and took his former seat next to Dumbledore. Within mere seconds, the two were engaged in a deep conversation, heads close together.

Cho finally recovered and surfaced, wiping away tears with the tips of her slender fingers. Her face was nearly the same color as Harry's, although in her case it was from laughing so hard.

"I'm sorry," she said, although the apology was ruined by her continuing bursts of giggles. His grave look lasted a second, and then they both dissolved into laughter together.

It was at this point that a disgusted Sam left to join Ron and Hermione. All that concentration-of-couple was making her both nauseated and envious at the same time. A combination that, she learned, equaled indigestion.

She sat next to Ron, stomach twisting in an altogether different. He grinned at her through several pounds of food, equally happy to have her there, but Hermione just gave her a cool nod before going back to cutting her kippers into small and equal bites.

_What was her _problem? thought the ever oblivious Sam.

Meanwhile, Cho had successfully finished feeding Harry, with the only casualties being a bit of jam in his hair and a few stray crumbs on his robes. She brushed him off, feeling very good with herself. After all, it could've gone worse. He could have lost an eye to a wayward fork.

He grinned, knowing what she was thinking "Beginner's luck?"

"Like the time Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw?" she retorted. Harry chuckled lightly "Touche."

"You know, we need to have a rematch," Cho said, thoughtful now. He nodded enthusiastically; it'd been over a year since he last played Quidditch and he didn't want to fall too far behind. Plus he just really wanted to play.

"Next year?" she questioned hopefully.

"'Course Cho. That is, if you're up to it." She stuck her tongue out at him, and he felt that all too familiar swooping sensation in his stomach, and the answering response in his heart.

Lost in themselves, they didn't even notice that the Great Hall was half empty and that the golden plates and goblets were once more spotless and shining.

Several minutes and countless plans later, the couple found themselves in a nearly deserted room. Nearly, because Cho's father still sat in his chair, the Chinese musclemen at his left and right shoulders. He cleared his throat loudly, and the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor looked around at the interruption. Their eyes widened in surprise at the almost bare room. Harry's even further when he saw Lei.

"We need to go," said Cho, her cheeks rapidly heating up. She grabbed Harry's arm and began to haul him out, praying that her father kept his mouth shut. But obviously, the Gods of Karma couldn't let her have both Harry and a father that was obedient to her thoughts.

"Harry? Would you mind staying for a minute? I believe there was something we needed to discuss."

The bespectacled boy froze, but Cho continued to determinedly drag him away. He grounded his feet, and gently took the soft hand attached to his robes, stroking it until she let him go.

"I'll meet you outside," he whispered, squeezing her hand comfortingly. She hesitated, a worried frown on her face that made a small dimple appear between her eyebrows. Her feet shuffled slowly out, unwilling to leave him alone with her father and the two Chinese bodyguards. Each of whom was arguably in the top 10 of the World's Deadliest Wizards. Eventually however, her lovely form left Harry's line of sight, and he suddenly felt small and alone.

"Sit," commanded Lei. Harry sat, swiveling his body to look at the large Eurasian man and his lieutenants. His stomach was knotted with nerves, palms cold and slightly sweaty.

Then, the powerful wizard shocked him; he started to laugh. Lei chuckled richly, his voice rolled through the room and echoed off the walls. Harry could only stare at him, apprehension replaced with a perplexed look.

After a full minute, Lei's laugh finally petered out, though he still grinned widely at Harry, scar stretched tight along his jaw line.

"Sir?" asked Harry politely, trying to keep the irritation and embarrassment out of his voice.

"I'm sorry," Cho's father apologized graciously, "It's just, I remember this same situation when I met my wife's parents. And I must say, judging from the expression on your face, we felt the same as well." his grinned grew.

"Of course," he continued "you have it better than I did. When I told him that I was seeing his daughter, he threw a teacup at me." Harry grinned, imagining this dangerous wizard having a cup with pink flowers flying at his head.

"But with that aside, this is actually going to be a rather straightforward conversation." Lei's tone became serious now, without a hint of its former amusement. The Gryffindor gulped nervously, looking up at the large Eurasian man and his entourage.

"Calm Potter, calm," cautioned Long. Cho's father raised an eyebrow; the Chinese man rarely spoke to people he had just met, and never when Lei was talking with them. For whatever reason, he had taken a liking to Harry.

"Let me be very clear," said Lei, choosing not to question Long's actions, "that my wife and I approve of you, Harry."

The Gryffindor nodded, and the Eurasian man had his first inkling about why Long had spoken up. The boy was clearly terrified, but his chin was still high and his emerald eyes locked with Lei's unblinkingly. It must have been this strength of character that so impressed Long's noble nature.

"But," continued Cho's father, "there are certain... _conditions_ I'd like to bring to cover with you. My daughter. She cares for you, dearly."

Even in the midst of this stressful moment, Harry couldn't hold in his smile. "And I care for her too."

The other man nodded, "As it should be." His eyes narrowed slightly "Use it wrongly though, take advantage of her affections, and I swear to you that I'll break your kneecaps and leave you at the bottom of a valley, in the middle of Africa."

The messy haired boy paled even more, but his temper flared at the accusation. "I would never do that," he said, voice shaking both from fear and anger. Long smiled encouragingly, and Lei gave a satisfied nod.

"Another thing Harry... I know, as do we all, that none control the urgings of the heart, so if you leave her, I will do nothing to stop you. All I ask is, whatever you do with my daughter, you are _both_ one hundred percent sure. You can rest assured though, if you break her, then you will never see her again." he promised.

Harry gulped, but continued to stare directly into Lei's almond shaped eyes, so like Cho's, and yet so different. Her eyes were warm and trusting, but her father's, while not cold, were closed, a darker brown, and harder than bedrock.

"And the same works, if in reverse," spoke Lei again.

"Erm, what?" the Gryffindor asked, not understanding what he meant.

"If she breaks up with _you_," and Harry, who had taken Lei's grilling so strongly, flinched in pain at the thought. The speaker softened his tone slightly; this wasn't meant to be pleasant, but that didn't mean he had to cause unnecessary pain, "then I will not stop her. Although I do like you Harry," he reassured. "And I apologize, but if you attempt to pursue her when she clearly doesn't want you..." Cho's father shrugged "then I will have to stop you."

"And what makes you think you'd be able to?" asked Harry before he could control himself.

Lei's eyebrows shot together, Fu's mouth narrowed, but Long released a snort of laughter.

For a few seconds, the room was silent, and the two stared at each other, expressions unchanging. Lei's gaze was searching, Harry's was both defiant and sincere.

Whatever Cho's father saw in the emerald eyes of the other seemed to satisfy him, and the corners of his mouth turned upwards in a tiny smile.

"Congratulations Potter," he heard Fu speak for the first time. The man's voice was like a chain smoker's; low and rough. Long nodded "Miss Chang should be honored to have one with as strong a heart as you at her side."

Harry bobbed his head stiffly, still a little miffed. "Calm yourself young one," Long's voice rolled out "we meant you no harm."

"Indeed," Lei inclined his head, "it's because, as you seem to understand," he grinned, "that I simply wish to protect Cho."

The Gryffindor's expression cleared. When they put it that way, he would have been hard pressed _not_ to understand. "And," added Long, "I think she's waiting for you." he looked towards the shut doors.

"Is that it then?" asked Harry, trying and failing to conceal the eagerness in his tone. The three men chuckled deeply, "Yes Harry, that's all. Of course, until you meet her brothers." said Lei and he winked.

"So... can I go?" he chose to block the ending comment from his mind until the future.

"Yes," Lei gestured with his hand "you may go."

The black haired boy stood up and walked quickly to the door, barely refraining from turning it into a full out sprint.

Lei began to count down in his head the moment Harry opened the wooden door. _Three, two, one..._

_

* * *

_"Ark!" yelled Harry, as a small form nearly tackled him from the side.

Cho's arms were wrapped around him tightly, "I'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorry," she chanted non stop, her face pressed into his shoulder.

He brought her around so that he could hold her from the front, "Cho-" he tried to say, but she wouldn't let him. "Harry I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you in there, I just..." she pressed her face closer into his chest.

"It's alrigh-" he started again, yet once more she stopped him. "But it's not! I'm your girlfriend and I- _mmph!_" she brought her face off of him to apologize some more, and Harry, seizing his opportunity to end this, kissed her full on the lips.

She _wanted_ to resist, she really did. She didn't think she deserved this after he was so brutally word-whipped by her father. The problem with this was that the moment his lips touched her own, Cho's will turned to dust.

Her knees weakened slightly, and Harry grabbed her tighter to him, his tongue slipping into her mouth.

_Well_, she thought, _making out with him to make it up to him is_ perfectly_ fine by me_. Cho's fingers hooked into his hair, delighting in its thickness. He brought his hand up to cradle her cheek, stroking it softly with the pad of his thumb. Goosebumps rolled down her neck, and she grabbed him even harder.

Harry finally- and regrettably- broke the kiss, and they both gasped for air. He still kept his hand on her head though, entangling it in her smooth and sweet smelling hair.

She squeezed him slightly, "I really am sorry," she said for the last time, her soft, Scottish-accented voice melancholy. He kissed her on top of her head, "Nothing to be sorry for. Your father just cares for you as much as I do." He winked, giving her a playful half smile.

"Thank Merlin," she said smiling back. Cho slipped her smaller hand into his, as they turned in the direction of Hogwarts' extensive grounds.

And with that, they left, to catch up with their friends and enjoy a glorious, reporter-free day.

Lei watched the entire thing, peeking through a crack in the doorway. By the end, he was embarrassed to say that his eyes were slightly wet; that used to be his little girl. He wiped them quickly with the sleeve of his robe, muttering about dusty beams.

But Long and Fu shared a furtive glance, and the corners of their mouths twitched up, just a tad.

* * *

_Meanwhile;_

A tall, built and clean shaven man with silver hair, newly cut in military fashion stood in the middle of a vast and brown plain. Tall grass waved back and forth in the wind, and the sun shone brightly down from a blue and cloudless sky. Birds spiraled together, then parted, joining in new patterns and shapes in their aerial ballet. Plumes of dust were sent up as large beasts continued their trot along the continent of Africa, their cacophonous cries wavering slightly in the air currents.

Merlin sighed. It was just so _hot! _An idea hit him, one that was painfully obvious for even the dimmest dunderhead, let alone the greatest wizard that had ever lived.

Magic. Simple really. And it was why he was here in the first place.

He waved his wand once, and relief was immediate, like a glass of cold water poured over the head.

The sounds of the animals spiked as a lion shot out of a thicket, quickly taking down an antelope with a crippled leg. The rest of its herd galloped away and condensed, finding safety in numbers.

Merlin frowned; _that_ was the wrong lion.

So he sat, and he waited. And he waited. And he waited. Clouds chased each other across the sky, animals passed by in all directions, and as the day ended darkness fell.

But still he waited, gazing raptly up at the sparking stars; diamonds in the sky.

_Crunch,_ came a noise behind him. Dry grass being crushed, followed by the sounds of heavy panting. Merlin smiled, "Took you long enough."

_Merlin?_ came an incredulous and raspy voice.

"Indeed old friend, I'm back."

_But I thought you be dead! _

"Dead?" Merlin smiled, "Wenyama, my dear lion, does it _look_ like I'm dead? Trapped for centuries, yes, but _dead_?"

_No, but do I look like I be five thousand years old? _The black lion, nearly invisible in the darkness, gave a snort.

"I should hope not," said the wizard, amused, "after all, we're the same age." Wenyama gave a rucking sort of sound, the lion's equivalent for laughter.

"So how has it been, in the ages I've been gone?" asked Merlin, when the lion was finished. "I admit, I haven't been checking up on you all as often as I should have. You're _dreadfully_ hard to find."

Instead of the light reply he was expecting, the lion's answer was quite downcast. _Been going badly, it has. There be not many left of us First Creatures._

The silvered haired wizard frowned, "How many are left? Out of the original seven pairs?"

The great beast padded around to face Merlin, and rested his bulk on the ground. He put his head on his paws, and closed his amber eyes in thought. _The Phoenixes... _he said first, not opening his eyelids, _He Ping and Gao Xing... Haven't been seeing them for a couple of centuries, at least. They be rumors by China though._

Merlin nodded understandingly, "They were very partial to the Five Sacred Mountains, if I remember correctly."

_The unicorns, Adair and Ahira, they still be keeping in touch. They be in the North of Russia at the moment_.

"How about the dragons? Horrible temperaments, I always had to warn them."

_Razortooth was killed during the crusades, Dutch wizards passed onto his land, right in front of his cave. An army of them, mind you. But did he let them pass, like I be telling him too? No,_ the lion let out a deep breathe, _he had to attack. Of course, Gemclaw not be taking that lightly, she flew right over to Amsterdam._ Wenyama shook his head sadly, _she be cursed dead before she touched the ground_.

"What about the others?" asked Merlin, slightly scared now.

_The krakens? They be in hiding near the Bermudas. Too powerful they are, the Muggles be noticing, but at least they be giving the area a bit of a berth_.

"And how's your mate my friend? I've been wondering where she was... spectacular lioness." Wenyama's sides stretched as he took a deep breathe, but he didn't answer the question.

"Wenyama?" asked Merlin, when he didn't respond. "What's happened? Where is Singhyatiri? Where's Singhy?"

_She's dead,_ he finally whispered, eyes opening to burn into Merlin's. _Mauled by a group of Manticores. It's been five hundred years but it still be feeling like a part of me is missing_...

The wizard laid a comforting hand on the lion's flank. _I finally have some idea of how you be feeling_, the lion spoke again. Merlin's eyes tightened around the edges, _it's horrible. We weren't meant to be apart Merlin, that's why we came in pairs. I can't even imagine what it be like when_ your_ separation be not by death_.

The silver haired man massaged his eyelids tiredly, "Nimue... Made her choices. And I, in turn, made mine. Do not be sad for me my friend, our love was lost long ago. At any rate, have you seen her? I shudder to think what she's been up to, these long years..."

Wenyama made an angry sound, somewhere between a bark and a roar, _Last I heard, she be in Albania_.

"Albania?" questioned Merlin. He felt a stab of unease, hadn't that upstart Voldemort been there as well? "Odd... And what of Prashant? Poor thing, Nagini was killed scarcely months after creation. That's what changed her, by the way- Nimue, I mean. She was never the same after that day. I still wonder about that, it was strange, so strange. Nimue always disliked Nagini... and yet she was the last one who saw her..."

The lion stood up abruptly, _Now that you mention her, I be remembering something! Nagini be back Merlin!_

"What?!" exclaimed Merlin, starting slightly "That can't be!"

_I just be saying what Prashant told me. Even if he be a snake, that not be a subject to lie about._

"I don't doubt his honesty, he was always a proud one. It's just... impossible. Magically, physically, just completely impossible." He kneaded his forehead, "Did Prashant even see her?"

_He said he did. Said he be in Albania, looking for a few rats to eat, and out of the gloom slithers Nagini. Said it be odd though, she didn't recognize him. He tailed her for days, but all of a sudden, he be blacking out, and when he woke up he be in the middle of Nevada._

Merlin paled underneath the moonlight, "W-what did you say? Albany, was it?"

_Albania. What is it Merlin? Something be wrong?_ he asked as the wizard shook his head back and forth in tiny motions.

"It can't be," he muttered, running his fingers through his closely shaven hair. He'd put it all down to chance that Voldemort had a snake named Nagini; after all, the female counterpart of the First Snake had perished long ago. But maybe the name wasn't chance? Nagini couldn't be back, he knew that much, so some of the pieces didn't quite fit in their current positions. Nimue and Voldemort in Albania. The seeming reappearance of a long dead companion. What was he missing?

But wait, _she_ was still there, an ever common thread, and she had always been so _talented_ with shapeshifting...

Trains of seemingly unrelated thoughts tangled together in his head. Nimue's dislike for Nagini, being the last to see her before the snake's 'accident,' her inclination for shapeshifting, evil perversions, and Nagini's impossible ressurection coupled with Voldemort's slow descent into darkness and his snakelike appearance. It led to only one fact.

Merlin's shoulders slumped. It was so _obvious_. He'd been so stupid, so blind, and for so long.

Voldemort was just another tool for her.

Long ago, it had been the Pharaoh of Egypt, Xerxes of Persia, Hitler and Bin Laden and thousands of others in her twisted games.

But back then, she had been so much more obvious. An advisor, always, someone close to the seat of power. He should have expected this, things changed in the years he'd been gone.

_Merlin? _asked the lion again. _What is it?_

"It's Nimue." he whispered, finally replying. "That's not Nagini. It's _her_."

And, face white and eyes shocked, he disappeared with a sharp _crack_!

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**Author's Note: Sorry about taking so long to update! I just haven't had much time, and this was an _extremely_ hard chapter for me to write. What'd you think about the ending? Lots of new stuff. I think I had an inkling of this, when I first made Wenyama. Oh, and Ngwenyama means 'lion' in some african language haha. And his mate's name, I made up the end part. Singh means 'lion.' The Phoneixes names mean 'peace' and 'happiness.' And the unicorns' names mean like pure and stuff, in different languages. Drop me any comments, suggestions, hellos, and love letters. Thanks guys!- sasansan  
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	11. The Battle of the Dursley's Kitchen

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. No matter how much I might wish otherwise.**

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Harry Potter groaned dully as he pressed his forehead against the cool glass. The windows at Number 4 Privet Drive were all thrown wide open, in an attempt to get some relief from the sweltering summer.

He debated going back upstairs to reread the letter's sent to him so far, but knew it was a useless gesture; he'd memorized the lot of them.

Most kids, on a day like this, would be miles away with friends, swimming in a pool, or perhaps at an air conditioned mall. But then, Harry wasn't '_most kids'_. He had been, but at the tender age of fifteen months, his life had been snatched away by a infamous and powerful Dark Wizard, by the name of Lord Voldemort.

Until recently, the dangerous man (this term being used loosely) was thought dead. Of course, this hadn't been the case, and by the means of an evil and ancient potion, had come back to full powers just a few months previously.

Fate, not content to let Harry rest after his previous duels with the Dark Wizard, had him present when Voldemort returned. In fact, his very blood had been used in the incantation. He'd then fought the Dark Lord once more, only narrowly escaping with his life. Which was more than Cedric Diggory could say.

But naturally, this would have been far too easy. When Harry returned to Hogwarts, the Minister of Magic, who would have been one of the most important weapons in the arsenal against Voldemort, flat out refused to lend any credence to Harry's story. He had Ministry officials passing out notices denying his return, as he found both the newspapers and the Auror Department strangely reluctant.

And yet, in spite of all these extraordinary events, Harry was stuck in the most ordinary of neighborhoods, melting in the sun.

The messy haired young man had the look of someone who'd just had his new found height filled out by muscles, and his scruffy jeans and worn out t-shirt only accentuated his newly acquired physique.

You would think that someone who had one of the most dangerous wizards in existence after him would find somewhere better to be than lounging about the back patio, but frankly, frantic fights for his life now seemed quite monotonous to Harry.

The teenager sighed again when he pulled his head away from the glass, making a slight suctioning sound. The area his forehead had been pressed against was damp with condensation, but that small patch of his face felt cool.

"Boy!" came a rough bellow from the house, sounding like a wounded hippopotamus.

He sighed once more (he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately) and went to see what his Uncle wanted. Harry had already made several snow cones for them, as well as wiped their faces down with wet towels. There didn't seem to be much more they could make him do.

He was mistaken.

"There you are boy, what took you so long?!" said the swollen man from the armchair in the living room. The television blared loudly with sports updates.

"Oh never mind Vernon," said a thin, vulturish woman irritably. "Come, come, and hurry up," she fluttered her bony hands at him.

"Make a nice, refreshing fruit salad for your Uncle. The poor dear, he's been working so hard. It's the _least_ you can do, it's him you have to thank for the clothes on your ungrateful back." his Aunt Petunia looked at him disgustedly with beady blue eyes. He shrugged it off; most of her looks were disgusted, or contemptible, or irritable or- well, you get the picture.

Harry cut and peeled the apples, pears and peaches at a slow, steady rhythm. Vernon Dursley occasionally yelled at Harry to _hurry_ up, but he had to start over again when his cousin came into the kitchen and promptly ate all of Harry's progress.

Finally, he emerged with a bowl filled to the brim with a delicious looking fruit salad. Harry had even sprinkled granola on the top for a good measure.

His uncle looked at it, gave a grunt of satisfaction, and demolished the whole thing in what was probably the fastest he'd ever moved. "At least you're good for something boy," said Vernon in what was a shining commendation for him, while juice dribbled from the left corner of his mustache.

Harry quickly retreated to his room and lied down on the carpeted floor. He stared up at the whitewashed ceiling, boredom growing by the second.

Every now and then he'd sneak a glance at the window, hoping to see Hedwig returning with letters from his friends, only to be disappointed by the empty sky. So he kept lying there, watching the shadows slowly paint themselves across the walls as night fell.

Not long after the sun set, his aunt called him down by means of hitting a wooden spoon against a pan.

The family- and Harry- had a shorter-than-normal dinner, as they had been, Vernon Dursley said in a painfully superior voice 'Invited to England's Best Kept Suburban Lawns Competition. A good, real, _normal_ event, no flying brooms or ruddy maniacs with magic sticks anywhere in sight.' His wife had responded with a prim nod, going on to say 'I wonder if Mrs. Hatfield has heard about this? Probably not, so I simply _must_ tell her. You'll remember her, Vernon? Dreadfully plain woman, absolutely no fashion sense, although she does know all the going ons of the neighbors.'

Harry thought this was a bit rich coming from his Aunt Petunia; she was wearing beige velvet pants with a hideously bright orange jumper- made of leather no less- that clashed horribly with her blonde hair. And as for the 'going ons,' well, he'd bet his wand that she knew more about their female neighbor's social lives than their own husbands did.

He was still picking at his abnormally large pork chop (abnormally large by his standards, meaning that it was more meat than bone) when the Dursley's car had screeched out of the drive way. Good riddance, he thought, walking over to the living room to switch on the telly.

After cleaning the dishes, Harry'd become quite absorbed by a documentary on the Middle Ages. When they got to the bits on witch trials, he was surprised to find that he had, in fact, learned something in History of Magic the previous year.

Perhaps Professor Binns' voice permeated his head even when he was sleeping? Harry would have to research this; what if it were possible to learn, without actually being awake for the lesson? The Weasley twins would have a field day.

_Knock, knock_.

His head whipped to the door, then to the clock. He frowned; only 8 30? They couldn't be back yet.

Harry reached his wand into his pocket, ready to whip it out at a moments notice. Mentally reviewing defensive spells, he walked tentatively through the entrance way.

He looked at the doorknob for long seconds before undoing the dead bolt, and cracking the door open. Cold air rushed into the room, tousling his hair and making papers flutter.

"Hello?"

"Harry? Harry!" came a happy response, in a voice that was reassuringly familiar.

"Professor Lupin?" asked Harry, amazed, as he opened the door the rest of the way.

"Yes, yes, but call me Remus. I'm not your teacher anymore, am I," the sandy haired man grinned "May I come in?"

"Uh, sure, sure," he said, flustered. His relief from a friendly face was accompanied by a slight suspicion. What was he doing here? And stranger yet, how could he even be _here_? Hadn't he owled Harry just days ago, to tell him he was hunting down a banshee near Albany?

He tried to wipe away his concerns, only partially succeeding.

Lupin immediately crossed to the living room, slouching into an armchair with a satisfied sigh. Harry's confusion intensified; Lupin _never_ slouched. In class, his back had stayed straight as a meter stick, and Harry long ago lost track the times he had gently rebuked students for their bad posture.

Harry decided to obey his feelings and investigate, albeit in a roundabout sort of way. "Prof- er, Remus, why are you here? What happened to the banshee?"

The man in the chair looked confused for a moment before grinning shiftily, "Oh, right, the- uh, Banshee, did you say- yes I took care of that. Quite a while ago. Several weeks, in fact." Alarms went off in the other's head at what he knew to be a blatant untruth (because really, it's not possible to beat something when you haven't even _heard_ of it yet), and his thoughts went back to the night only a month ago, when he'd been so easily fooled by Polyjuice Potion.

"Really?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes," continued the man who, Harry was quite sure, was most definitely _not_ Remus Lupin, "it put up a, uh, a bit of a fight. Pardon me, I was mistaken, I only managed to subdue it last week, um, last week..." he cast around for a weekday.

"Tuesday?" offered Harry helpfully.

"That's right," said the sandy haired wizard, in a relieved sort of voice. "Tuesday night, it was."

Harry's heart began to beat very fast in his chest, face heating up while his stomach filled with ice. Because he knew for a fact that the full moon had been last week Tuesday, had watched it from his window thinking of Remus and his unfortunate fate. The _real_ Remus Lupin, not this... impostor.

Well versed in sleight of hand by his Godfather, Harry's fingers began to drift towards the pocket he kept his wand in, passing the movement off like he was scratching his leg.

"I bet you're wondering why I'm here," said fake-Remus after several seconds of silence. The forced smile was still on his face.

The messy haired wizard just nodded, his nerves taut.

"I'm actually supposed to, er, take you to a safer place." said fake-Remus, his tone slightly off. "Dumbledore's orders."

"Really?" said Harry coolly, and here he brought his wand out to point at the other wizard. "You see, I don't think that's going to happen."

"Now Harry," said the man, and he hurriedly stood up, holding his hands in front of his face in a cautionary gesture. "Don't be hasty. Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore's orders," he repeated the phrase like a mantra, perhaps thinking it would change Harry's mind. "You know me Harry, I'm Remus, Remus Lupin, I taught you at school remember?"

"That's bullshit, and you know it," responded the messy haired wizard, without batting an eyelid.

"Okay, well maybe it is," admitted the impostor, finally giving up his charade, "But what is not, is that you are going to come with me."

Harry laughed humorlessly, "And why would I do that?"

Remus' look alike gave a wry smile, "You don't have a choice."

_Boom_!

With an explosion of wood, the door flew off of its hinges sending shrapnel everywhere. Harry looked, an automatic reaction, and then quickly ducked to dodge the spell he knew would fly from the others' wand.

Ropes flew uselessly over his head, tangling up around the stair's banister. Harry rolled out of the way and took cover behind the couch as several dark robed figures entered the Dursley's house, yelling roughly.

A bolt of light, hissing like a wasp, burned a hole through the chair Harry hid behind, narrowly missing his foot before smoldering into the floorboards. He sent a Furnunculus Curse from one side of his barrier, before moving hurriedly out of the other side. Someone gave an angry cry as tentacle-like feelers sprouted from their body. The Hogwarts student popped out to shoot another spell towards the noise. This one missed, shattering an ornament on the mantle place. "Where'd he go?" yelled a ragged and raspy voice.

"I don't know," snarled another "let's just burn the house down." There was malicious laughter following this comment.

"No!" cut across a drawling voice, Harry's mouth thinned. "Obey the Dark Lord's orders, we _musn't harm the boy_." continued Lucius Malfoy.

The boy in question resisted his urge to charge the group of Death Eaters with his wand drawn and hexes flying; but he'd be unconscious faster than he could say 'Stupefy.' He decided to buy himself some time instead, maybe he could stall them long enough for help to arrive.

"Damn Polyjuice is wearing off," cursed someone quietly, and he used the slight distraction to make his move.

_"__Abvolvus_," whispered Harry, and copious amounts of smoke began to issue from his wand tip. In seconds, the room was obscured by a thick haze. Using his familiarity with the house, the young wizard navigated his way into the kitchen to gain a few more moments of freedom. Confused voices echoed from the living room, there was the bang of wood meeting human, and someone let out a painful exclamation.

Harry grinned; that damn coffee table. He banged his shins on it even when he _could_ see.

He listened there for a few seconds more, before the noise abruptly died down. The sudden silence was Harry's only warning.

"_Protego!_" he threw up his shield, just as a broad man ducked into the kitchen with his wand out. The red light rebounded off Harry's spell, hitting the Death Eater full on. He stiffened and crumpled, his mask rolling away when he hit the ground to reveal a wide face with abnormally small eyes. A full black beard splayed out from his rounded chin as he breathed slowly, unconscious.

Someone else entered the kitchen, throwing up a shield as well. Harry hit the floor when his own spell ricocheted off the other's block. Before he could react, yet another robed figure slid in with a cry of '_Imperio!_'

The Dursley's home disappeared in Harry's eyes, he was floating in a realm of rainbow light. A beguiling voice sounded in his ears '_Give up Harry, give up. Lay down your wand. Give up, give up_.'

A glorious feeling suffused him, pure, untainted happiness. Give up? It sounded great, it _felt_ great.

And he was about to, he really was, but that steel core which made him so good under pressure, so rebellious when things conflicted with his ideals, and such a phenomenal Quidditch player, rebelled instantly.

'_I don't think I will_' thought Harry. He fought back against the feelings of joy, and the rainbow lights flickered.

_'Give up Potter, you can't win this, give it up. Come, come, give your wand to me_,' the seductive voice continued.

'_I won't._' he thought fiercely, _'I won't_.' The radiance dimmed.

'_Harry'_ the voice crooned again, but he didn't let it. '_I said **I won't!**_**'**

And then he was back, face to face with a thin lipped, sallow cheeked man, who didn't seem to notice the change. "Have you subdued him yet?" came a bored voice from the living room.

"Nope," responded Harry, lips popping on the 'p,' and he cocked his arm, sending a straight right towards the Death Eater's temple. He only had time to widen his eyes in surprise before he too was unconscious on the floor.

"What-?" Harry heard the man in the other room start to ask, but then a handful of loud pops sounded, and several people screamed spells simultaneously.

There was a brief moment that was filled with large bangs and bright flashes, followed by a split second of silence. Hurried footsteps sounded then, calls from panicked voices blended together.

"Has anyone seen Harry?!"

"Remus! Don't go upstairs alone!"

"Where's Potter?!"

"He's not among the bodies, thank Merlin."

"Has he been taken?"

Suddenly a slight, pink haired lady skittered into the kitchen. She let out an 'eep!' of surprise when she saw the Death Eaters, and then a louder one when she tripped over a leg.

"Tonks?!" someone cried, at the resounding crash. Harry was still in the same position he had been when the fighting started, right leg forward from the force of his punch, arm at his side, knuckles bleeding. His wand lay on the floor next to his left foot, surrounded by broken glass and plates.

The witch picked herself up off the floor muttering about bodies and improper clean up, but she froze when her eyes fell on the messy haired boy.

"Harry!" she squealed happily. He took an alarmed step back, wary.

"Harry?" echoed other voices throughout the house, there were more footsteps, and the bespectacled boy found himself looking at one of the strangest things he'd ever seen. Arranged in his Aunt's destroyed, once immaculate, kitchen, was a group of witches and wizards. There was a large, bald, black man, the two Chinese bodyguards he'd seen back at Hogwarts, an elderly witch with curly hair, Mad-Eye Moody, and-

"Remus?" said Harry incredulously, "Is it really you?"

"The one and only," grinned the sandy haired man. Harry felt the strangest sense of deja vu, but after what had happened tonight, he wasn't exactly sure about any of this. This Lupin stood with perfect posture, but Harry had to make sure.

"Prove it," he said defiantly. Moody let out a short 'Ha!' and the black man chuckled deeply. Lupin just kept grinning " I _am_ Remus Lupin, nicknamed Moony, werewolf who once taught you during your third year at Hogwarts. Your Patronus is a stag, you have an invisibility cloak from James, and your Godfather-"

"Okay, okay," apologized Harry, "I believe you. It's just, had to check you know? I already met you tonight."

"What was that Potter?" said Moody sharply.

"Well it wasn't _really _him, they didn't act like him at all. But there was an impostor, pretending to be you." He pointed a finger at his father's friend.

"Tell us everything that happened, all we knew was that there was an attack taking place," said the black wizard, in a deep and commanding voice. There were nods all around.

Harry took a second to collect his thoughts before starting, "It happened after the Dursley's left; they went to some lawn competition. Someone knocked on the door, and I remember looking at the clock so it was around... half past eight. And I opened it, and," he shrugged "it was Remus. But then, I started noticing things. He didn't sit straight, and a lot of the things he said were wrong, and he just seemed... really nervous."

"But how did you know for sure?" asked Moody, who was now eyeing the real Remus with suspicion.

"Ah, well, you know that Banshee Remus went hunting in America?"

Everyone nodded, "Got it just yesterday," said the sandy haired man, with a kind of modest pride. The elderly witch patted him on the arm.

"I asked the impostor if he beat it last Tuesday. And he said yes, that he'd beaten it that night."

"But last Tuesday was the-" began Remus, with a confused expression on his face, "the full moon." Harry finished for him, with a wide grin.

Lupin's face cleared in understanding, "Brilliant," he whispered. Everyone looked likewise floored, "Well done Harry!" piped up the witch named Tonks.

"Indeed, quite masterful," rolled Long's smooth tones, and Fu grunted in affirmation. "That's what I've been trying to teach you all!" growled Moody loudly, "never ceasing, ever alert, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The people gathered jumped, except for Tonks who simply rolled her eyes.

"We _know_ Mad Eye, you only say it twice a minute."

"And for good reason, you klutz..." he muttered under his breathe. She gave a cheerful laugh, "It's part of my charm."

"Your charm's going to get us caught!" hissed the former Auror, while the large black man examined the unconscious Death Eaters. They continued their teasing argument, while Harry turned to his father's friend.

"Sorry, but who were you all again?" he asked, feeling distinctly out of the loop.

Remus chuckled, "Well you know me and Mad-Eye. These two," he indicated the bodyguards, "are-"

"We've already met as well." Long cut across him, offering a wiry and calloused hand to Harry, who shook it. Fu simply afforded him an acknowledging nod; he didn't say much, that man.

Lupin looked surprised at the exchange but didn't ask any questions. "That," he gestured at the black wizard "is Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror."

"Nice to meet you Harry," he said in his deep voice and he too shook his hand.

"And these two witches-"

"Are perfectly capable of introducing themselves, thanks." said the pink haired witch. "I'm Tonks, pleasure Harry."

"Dorace Crockford over here Mister Potter- though I was quite alright with Remmy introducing me."

Harry and Tonks snorted at the nickname while 'Remmy' gave the old witch a rather pained look. "Dorace-" he began, but she stopped him "Oh be quiet Remmy darling. I've known him for years, he was my neighbor," she explained to the other two, who were shaking with restrained laughter.

"Yes but-"

"What did I say muffin?" Dorace gave Remus an indulgent frown. He muttered something under his breathe.

"You watch your attitude young man," she said sharply "don't you want me to let you go out with Sirius?"

"Yes," he replied exasperatedly.

"Well then. You watch that mouth too. Harry dear, I think we better get you all packed up. It's not very safe here, is it?"

He thought that was a bit of an understatement, what with the unconscious dark wizards and the broken glass and furniture. Harry made towards the stairs, but the old woman grabbed his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip before he could leave the kitchen.

"Don't worry poppit, I've got it, _Accio!_" Loud bangs and crashes echoed down the stairs, like a small army was charging through the two story suburban home. Before Dorace could end the spell, Remus was buried in what appeared to be several thousand pounds of magical school supplies.

"Pft," he spit out a feather, his head enclosed in Hedwig's cage. Harry winced, how long had it been since he'd cleaned that?

"Oh Remmy!" said the old witch, and she fussed over him until he escaped Harry's things, a good deal shabbier than normal. Tonks would have helped, but her fist was stuffed in her mouth to stop her from laughing too loudly.

Dorace gave Remus a slightly analytical glance, "You're looking a smidgeon out of place dear. Why don't you let me-?"

"No," he said in a voice of forced calm, "I think I'll be alright." A rat bone dropped out of his hair and his left eye twitched.

"Wow Harry, a Firebolt!" exclaimed Tonks suddenly. Part of the pile had experienced a small avalanche, revealing the world's fastest racing broom. "It's really too bad we can't use it," she said, sounding crestfallen.

"Wait, how are we getting to, er, wherever we're going?"

"We're going to apparate." said Remus, while Tonks continued to gaze longingly at the broom. "It's how wizards-" "And witches!" Tonks piped up "-normally get from place to place."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" asked Harry in trepidation.

"You'll side-along with one of us," reassured Remus.

Mad-Eye walked in then, took one look at the unseemly pile, and waved his wand in a long sweeping movement. Harry's possessions were cleaned spotless, then tumbled of their own accord in perfectly ordered rows, and then-

They vanished.

Harry ran towards the now empty space with a shocked yell, that was his stuff, _his stuff!_

He looked at Moody accusingly, "Oh keep your britches on Potter," growled the Auror "I just banished them to our final destination."

"Final destination?" asked Tonks, a pink eyebrow raised "There's only _one _destination. Don't think your bringing us there via Iceland again!"

"Random apparation trips are a necessity!" he argued, "Throws them off our trail." his blue eye whizzed around in a paranoid way.

"Alastor, apparating doesn't _leave_ a trail in the first place." said Kingsley in his reassuring voice.

Moody's eye looked for support that didn't come, "Fine," he ground out, "it's your lives. Let's hurry up and get this on the way, you..." his voice lowered while he grumbled about certain 'upstart members.'

"Excellent," said Remus, "Harry, you'll be with me. The rest of you," he nodded "we'll see you on the other side."

"What're we-?" began Harry, but then the werewolf grabbed Harry's arm and turned sharply on one foot. The rest of his words were shoved down his throat by a crushing force. The kitchen disappeared, and his body felt like it was being squeezed in every conceivable area by clamps. His ears were twisted, legs compressed, and his eyes were being forced back into his head. Harry struggled unsucessfully to draw breathe, and his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. And just when he thought he was going to pass out-

He reappeared with a small pop, the restraints mercifully leaving him. Harry drew in deep breathes, his stomach queasy.

"Sorry about that," said Remus, his hand still on Harry's arm; steadying now. "The, er, _sensation, _for lack of a better word, does take some getting used to."

"I'll bet," panted the black haired boy, and the man chuckled.

They were in a deserted street that looked as though it'd seen better days. The lamps were dim, the houses were close together and grungy, and the yards were scruffy and unkempt. Aunt Petunia would have screamed in horror if she'd come to a place such as this. He reckoned that little thought had been put into the planning, as the houses in front of him jumped straight from 11 to 13.

Loud pops echoed around them, and Tonks, Mad-Eye, Dorace and the body guards spun into existence from thin air.

"Where's Kingsley?" asked Lupin.

"He took the Death Eaters into custody," replied Moody, his eye revolving wildly. "But we'd better hurry, we may have already been spotted."

Tonks murmured something that sounded suspiciously like 'we're _always _being almost spotted.' Mad-Eye ignored her.

"Here Potter, read this, and _memorize_ it." He felt a thin slip of paper being slipped into his hand by the grizzled Auror. Harry looked at it, perplexed. It was in slanted hand writing that looked tantalizingly familiar. He straightened his glasses, then read:

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number 12, Grimmauld Place._

"What-?" Harry started to ask, but stopped at the warning look Lupin gave him.

"Just concentrate on what you read, Harry" he said.

Harry did, and no sooner had he reached the word 'phoenix' that something bizarre happened. The area between houses 11 and 13, a small gap between walls that measured only a handful of inches, began to slowly stretch apart.

If there were people in the area, they must not have noticed it. The lights in the neighboring dwellings didn't so much a flicker, and no Muggles poked out their head to witness the fascinating sight.

After the space between numbers 11 and 13 was sufficiently wide, another house popped into existence. Had Harry blinked, he would have missed it; one second there was an ever expanding gap between two houses, and the next, a third house filled that gap.

A small brass number 12 was affixed over the door way. It seemed, if possible, in even worse shape than the rest of the houses on the block.

Moody walked forward, his leg clunking on every other step, straight up to the new place's door. He knocked twice, waited a second, and then knocked again. Immediately there was the scraping sound of bolts being drawn back, along with the cracks and pops of deactivated defensive charms.

The door swung open soundlessly.

Lupin swept the street with his eyes, then ushered Harry quickly through the portal and into a damp smelling foyer. The rest of the witches and wizards followed closely behind.

He looked around curiously, the space they occupied was much larger then the house from the outside. The magically expanded area reminded him of the tent he'd shared with the Weasleys at the Quidditch World Cup, only a year ago.

Even though this was the first room he'd seen, Harry could tell that this place had once been as magnificent as Hogwarts, perhaps more so. Faded gold leafing bordered exquisitely painted pictures, marred by water stains. The once plush carpet was dirty and soiled, and the slightly rotten wood furniture would not, in its original state, have looked out of place in the Queen's own bedroom. A huge crystal chandelier tilted dangerously above him, and a staircase, wide as a driveway and infinitely more grand, led up to a second and third landing. He realized with a jolt that this house, or perhaps manor was a more appropriate term, could be large enough to have actual _wings_.

"Where are we?" asked Harry, finally getting a complete question out.

Remus smiled widely, looking years younger, "Welcome, to the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

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**Author's Note: Whew! Finally got that chapter finished. Sorry, I just hate transition chapters. They're both hard and boring to write. Drop a review! And I apologize for the shortness, there just wasn't much to talk about I suppose. No flames please, I don't rock those and they just kill your, er, creative spirit and inclination to write. No like'em.**


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